You know that part in the story where the character thinks, I bet I didn't really see a ghost after all. I bet it was just a sheet. Wearing chains. Floating through our pantry. Shrieking. I bet it was just my imagination. You know how you always kind of hate characters who think that? You hate them, and you know you'd never be so stupid not to know a ghost when you saw one, especially when the title of your story is The Shrieking Specter, for God's sake, pardon my language. This is that part of the story. You