Philosopher -

Ian and Clay approached the old house on the outskirts of town. The lawn was dry and over grown but aside from that they could see that it was once a charming place not long ago. It was done in a poor man's version of Victorian architecture. Clay pushed through the small wooden fence and looked around at the unkempt yard. "I don't know. It's not that spooky." He tightened his jacket. "Although I'm sure it's drafty enough to be a haunted house."

"Yeah now that I think about it, maybe this isn't a great write in spot." Ian said. "The electricity is shut off. The outlets won't work."

"Yeah that could be a problem. Oh you know what? My cousin's got one of those portable generators. Maybe she'll let us borrow it."

"I don't know it might be a lot of trouble. But I'm really married to the idea of a write in at a real haunted house." Clay laughed but Ian kept a straight face. "I'm serious." Ian said. "I think that guy's ghost is still here."

"Oh yeah, how did he die?"

"He was a wrimo. He wrote himself to death."