From one place to another

 Weren't his fingers still buried in the dirt? He'd been digging it felt since the beginning of time but to where? Milo was certain his hair was made of soil now, maybe his body too. He was going nowhere very fast. And he'd almost decided to give up. Maybe he could sleep, after all.

But no. he felt the knob at the tip of his fingers and it turned. Of course, it was dark. Yes, just Milo's luck. Another dead end, but didn't he have the time? Naturally, the clumps of wet soil spilled over on the floor. To his surprise, there was another door. Underneath the opening, he spotted the moonlight.

Finally, something he could actually smile about. Still, his body was weak and he awkwardly stepped forward as he fell through the two doors that swung open. He landed on the floor.

"What was that!" He heard a voice in the darkness of the room but he looked toward the lovely moonlight streaming through the window.

Milo smiled. His pale robe was dingy and possibly moldy by now. Still, it was as if all was a new awakening. Could it possibly be the beginning?

"Who's there!" It was a whispered shout.

Milo sighed breathing in the fresh air. He was breathing, wasn't he? He pushed himself up to sit and bask in the moonlight. Oh, if only that sound could go away, he just might fall asleep. But he heard the restless sheets, and he knew this was no time to slumber. He got himself up and walked toward the darkness. It was best to take care of it. He supposed. Wasn't that what a hungry ghost, like himself would do? Yet, he'd rather scratch the sediments caked in his hair. Dust off these old clothes. Try to better himself, if he could. 

Just then, a candle lit.

"Did I say you could do that?" He responded. 

Of course, the body kept hidden under the depths of covers with a curtained canopy surrounding it. 

"Who are you?" The child-like voice shook with fear.

"Don't worry, I wasn't coming for you," Milo shrugged and sat on the edge of the bed. "I was hoping to visit an old friend, but I'm sure he's long gone by now." Milo thought of those fond days when his younger self was full of hope and without worry of the netherworld.

"You are a ghost?" She sounded certain.

"Possibly," His fingers pressed toward the sheet over her head. "But could it be you?" He laughed so calmly.

"No, of course not," She scrambled out of the covers and faced him head-on. She scrunched a frown but didn't scream.

"Well, it must be fate then." His smile was quick, but he could see he made her nervous.