The words were still fusing with his thoughts, circulating with his neurons like old memories.
Arthur turned one page after the other, decreasing the time he spent staring down at the floating words with each breath.
The texts depicted hundreds of ways to manipulate one child, to guide him toward pre-determined outcomes, and to mold him. He was reading the past of others as much as he was reading his. A heat wave struck the paper, and the old book, and the billions of dust particles caught fire in a blast of multicolored sparks before Arthur forced himself to finish the terrible lecture.
The instant it fell next to his feet, the issue spread to the dry carpet.
The ghost shrugged. "This is going to be bothersome. I hope you can hold your horses in front of guests."
