It was another long, uneventful day, and Isaac was once again lounging about the creaking old house he haunted. He drifted aimlessly from room to room, sighing dramatically as though trying to entertain himself with the sheer weight of his own misery. Being a ghost wasn't at all what Isaac had imagined. He had pictured flickering candles, terrified visitors, maybe a shriek or two when someone caught a glimpse of him in the corner of their eye. But reality was far duller. Nobody had bought the house yet. No curious families or daring thrill-seekers had crossed the threshold in weeks.

Isaac was still new to all this, a fresh ghost only just learning the supposed art of haunting. Even then, all he could do was drift in circles and pretend he was practicing for future people to come.

Isaac didn't usually mind solitude. Even when he was alive, he'd often kept to himself. But this was different. He was stuck like this for who knows how long. Sometimes he'd drift hopefully to the foyer, only to find the front door still shut.

Isaac sighed again, louder this time, though no one was around to hear it.