Renovations, additions, and upgrades. Colonel and I have seen the Station grow and progress. We have become good friends or even best friends, I dare say. We hang out all day and talk about the most random things. One would think we could run out of conversation, but hurrah, we have an infinite supply of that. I feel blessed for the opportunity to hang out with him for eternity, or however long we have at the Station. We have grown up into kids. Immature, playful, and carefree.

We upgraded from people-watching to people “Pinching.” A technique the Colonel developed, as a natural progression (I guess) to boredom. He discovered that if you concentrate soul energy, it will interact with the living. It was accidental, and the day it first happened was one for the Station history books. It all started with a pimple on someone’s back.

We followed it around the Station, bickering about the herculean zit and how it was probably big enough to have its own zipcode. After a couple of mocking pinches, it happened. Obviously, our energy cannot touch their physical beings, but for a brief moment, just as a static discharge on a dry spring day, a “Pinch” crosses over realms. SPLOTCH! Hilarity ensued. After that moment, it was open season.

Oh! The trouble we caused calls for both creativity and mischievous awards of the century. Red caps. Socks with sandals. Parents of monkey backpack kids. Whatever fad we deemed idiotic, gets a “Pinch.” Some folk freaked out, others brushed it off, and very few, if we’re lucky, would initiate fights between jealous boyfriends and innocent passers-by. We were like Holmes and Watson, Kirk and Spock, Lennon and McCartney. Partners in crime.

Friends forever.