“Anne! Anne! There are two ghosts in the bedding section!”

“Sherri, what are you talking about?” she clicked a button on the keyboard and the security camera image switched from an overhead view of the bank of cashiers to a view above the kitchen gadget wall, to the bathroom section, and then to the bedding section. “Look, there’s no one there.”

“Look!”

“Holy shit…” Anne said as one of the packages of sheets came off of the shelf by itself.

..

“Tim, Jesus, will you just pick a damn sheet already?!”

“Lawrence, I understand you might just grab the first sheet you find. Heck, you probably just get lightly stained sheets from Goodwill, I don’t know. But I’m particular,” Tim said taking a package off the shelf and running his hand over it. “Take this: Wamsutta Dream Zone 725-Thread-Count PimaCott in white,” he ran his hand over the smooth fabric. “You’d probably think there’s nothing wrong with this, right?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. Can we go?”

“Oh, Lawrence,” Tim shook his head sadly. “It’s late October. Think, dear Lawrence, do you really want to be caught out in the chill of Autumn in pure cotton?”

“Sure?”

Tim sighed. “It’s freezing. You’ll catch your death haunting with this sheet!”

“I’m already dead, what does it matter?!” Lawrence said exasperated. He took a white sheet off another shelf at random. “Just take this sheet and let’s go!”

“An eggshell satin? Good lord, Lawrence, where are we haunting, a brothel?”

“You’re getting on my last nerve, Tim…”

“Now here we go, Pure Beech Jersey Knit Modal… or… this lovely Belle Epoque La Rochelle flannel. Mmm,” he said holding the flannel sheet up to his face. “This. Yes, this.”

“Excellent, let’s go.”

“Wait, do you think it will pill? I don’t want to be that ghost with a pilling sheet. Can you imagine?!”

“I’m imagining whether I can kill you if you’re already dead.”

“Ah, Soft Tees Jersey Knit. This. Yes, this.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

“Now… traditional white or, oh, or silver!”

“This is bullshit!” Lawrence exploded.

“Lawrence, I think you mean this is boo-sheet!”