O nce again the clatter stirred her out of a sound sleep. This was now the third early morning disturbance in a row. She had had it with these pre-dawn visits and was dangerously close to her breaking point. She pulled on her robe, hastily tying it around her waist, as she sleep-lumbered down the stairs. "The dead should have a little more respect for the living, just sayin' ", she grumbled semi-coherently. "And Bob, this is more than a little unfair, I do have to go to work in the morning... spirit world's open all night, why hang around here?", she chanted gruffly, pounding her bare feet across the narrow wooden floored hallway leading into the kitchen. She expected to see him there, in his tattered wool sweater, teacup in hand, looking slightly amused by her rage against the dead rousing the living. Haunting can be hilarious! What she saw instead both startled her and left her speechless in the doorway. He was new. Uh-huh, Bob mu...