This is Girl speaking. It has been a while. The next story I would write was supposed to be called "The Mourning of the Sun". It is coming. Just not yet. Since then, I have been intrigued by this idea, quantum immortality. This story is inspired by that, as well as some other things. "The Ghost, collecting dust from souls already departed. She has been wandering for some time now, but there are no footprints in the sand, only pieces of them on her skin. If you ask her what it was all for, she will not have an answer. But she can tell you about her friend, the one from childhood years. Amanda she was called. Long hair, orange in the sun, brown by dawn, and always braided in pigtails. This friend of hers was often told she had a peculiar look, but it turned bland whenever she opened her mind, something she rarely did with most. The Ghost was an exception, though. “I believe we all die every morning we still stand. I know I have made a sacrifice every time I looked death ...