Restroom Break

The restroom was ancient, like the rest of the theater. It was also dark and narrow, the stone walls barely four feet apart in the entry corridor.

Sean staggered as he ran into someone from behind. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.”

The man turned around, and Sean blanched. The man’s face was rotting, exposing the bone beneath.

“They say a ghost is formed when a man dies in the grip of a great passion. I regret many things, but most of all I regret that sixty-ounce soda,” said the dead man, as the walls began to bleed.