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On this breezy October morn, I walk
in the swift shadows of cloud-cursing rooks,
watching the world wake on the horizon.
All houses wherein men have lived and died
Are haunted houses. Through the open doors
The harmless phantoms on their errands glide,
With feet that make no sound upon the floors.
We meet them at the doorway, on the stair,
Along the passages they come and go,
Impalpable impressions on the air,
A sense of something moving to and fro.
Three friends die in a car crash, and they all go on an orientation course.
Each of them is asked, "When you are in your casket and friends and family are mourning you, what would you like to hear them say?
The first friend says, "I would like to hear them say that I was a great doctor, and a great family man."
The second friend says, "I would like to hear that I was a wonderful partner, and school teacher who made a huge difference for my students."
The last friend replies, "I would like to hear them say.....LOOK, HE'S MOVING!!!!!"