O.G. Ghostwriter

My walking days are finally over! As it happens, I have a new bicycle. Well, "new" might be a bit of a stretch. I fished it out of a river and cleaned off most of the sludge. The bike is rusty, the brakes don't work, and the tires are in desperate need of air, but it moves nonetheless. And, most importantly, it's yellow, just like a proper bike should be! Up the hill we go, down the hill, up, down... I'm clinging to the wild ride for dear lifelessness. Tokyo, here I come! Only a thousand kilometers to go.  ... Next Chapter: coming soon... Previous Chapter: Ghosty Afuta Daku 

23:55 Let us examine the view opening up before us. We see the figure of a ghost. He sits at a restaurant table, muttering to himself. On the table lies an open Japanese newspaper, with a few job advertisements circled with a ballpoint pen. Let us examine the view before us more generally. An unimaginative restaurant in the middle of the night, in the middle of a big city, in the middle of nowhere.  The automatic door slides open and a relatively young man in a leather jacket steps inside. A fashionably cut hairstyle hanging over his forehead, a single earring dangling from his ear. The man strides straight to the ghost and sits down opposite him. The man looks at the ghost for a long time and then asks what he is reading. The ghost replies that it is none of his damn business.  The man snatches the newspaper from the table and comments that lately, newspapers haven't really offered any interesting job advertisements. The ghost does not reply, he just sourly takes a sip from h...