'Ten Minutes Late for Reality' by Lou Morris (c) 1988, 1989, 1991, 2002, 2015. Eight:

Eight:

   "A dollar a day?!  That's seven dollars a week!  I used
to get more for an allowance!"

                                 - The winner of ten million
dollars--payable a dollar
a day for the rest of his
life.


   Still nothing happened.  Roy still complained to himself
about how he should've hit that idiot that jumped in front of
him when he drove past the lake a while back.
   "My horoscope did say I would run into an old friend
today," Roy laughed, "but I probably would've got blood on my
bumper or something."  He took a playful swipe at his small
stuffed unicorn velcroed on his dashboard.
   "Hey, Mac!" a ghost of a previously living, now dead
sunfish burbled from the backseat.  "Pull over."
   "Okay..." Roy remarked instinctively.  He glanced back in
his rearview mirror--oh, it's only a ghostly trout floating
around... WHAT!!
   Screeech!
   "You didn't have to pull over that fast..." the fish
burbled, squeezing himself from underneath a bag of stolen
socks.  He swam up from the cluttered car floor into Roy's
line of sight.
   Roy whirled around.  He stared into the bug eyes of a
dead fish.
   The fish stared back.
   "But, but..." Roy stammered, "You're a ghost!"
   "Naw, really?" the fish burbled sarcastically, "I didn't
realize that, being a dead fish and all..."
   "You're a fish!" Roy realized again.
   Humans! the fish thought.  And I thought worms were
stupid.  He swam closer to Roy.  "Didn't I just tell you
that?"
   "But how'd you get here?" Roy asked, wide eyed with
wonder.
   "Oh, that?" the fish burbled.  "I guess I just
materialized here from the ether--"
   "No, not that," Roy said.  "How'd you become a ghost in
the first place?  I didn't think there was any such thing as
fish ghosts."
   "Human stereotyping," the fish burbled.  "Who says all
ghosts have to be human?"
   "Oh, I guess you're right..."
   "Of course I'm right!"  The fish then waved a fin goodbye
and swam smack into the rear window.
   Roy giggled slightly, "I've seen birds do that all the
time, but never a fish..."
   "Oh, shut-up.  I guess I haven't mastered this ghost
business yet.  Just let me out of here."
   "Why?" Roy asked over his shoulder as he pulled the car
over to a more convenient spot on the side of the road.
   "Some unfinished business to take care of..."
   "Like what?"
   "Well, there's this human who talks to a knapsack--"
   "Mongo?  Yeah, I graduated high-school with him two years
ago..."
   "Oh?"  The fish swam closer to Roy.  "Do you know where
he is now?"
   "Actually, come to think of it, I think I almost ran him
over a little while ago.  It was by the Rova Farms lake, I
think."
   "Should've hit him," the fish burbled.
   "Why?" Roy asked.
   "Because he shot me."
   "Oh," Roy commented as one would say if told that
someone's mother was just run over by a train.  "He was
always a little weird..."
   "Well, no matter; I will find him and haunt him till his
death," the fish burbled with extra emphasis.
   "Good idea.  Every fish should have a purpose in life."
   "Speaking of purpose, do you have any worms or water?"
burbled the dead fish.
   Roy blinked.  "Dead fish eat no worms."
   "Sorry, I forgot; bad habit."
   Roy shrugged.
   "Well, see ya!" he burbled then swam away out the door.