Ghost Toast
Alexis Hunter hadn't slept a full night since the incident with the waffle iron. Being in the kitchen with a midnight snack was about the most normal thing in her life at the moment. What wasn't normal was the fact that she'd dropped the toast. And the fact that there was a ghost by the oven.
The ghost glanced down at the dropped toast.
"Are you gonna eat that?" it asked after a moment.
"I- um, I, yeah, yeah, I am." Alexis reached for the buttered bread.
"Is that a good idea? Isn't there a five second rule or something? 'Cause I'm pretty sure it's been more than five seconds."
Alexis looked up in surprise. "What? No, I don't care that much, it's a snack. Not like it's gonna kill me."
"It could," said the ghost ominously. "That's how I died." "Yeah sure," drawled Alexis, picking up the bread.
The ghost shook its head. "No really, you could die from that. And then you'll never be able to enjoy the savory taste of buttered rye toast again. Do you wanna risk it? Is it really worth never being able to eat that stuff again?"
Alexis frowned. The toast stopped halfway to her mouth.
"I..." She looked down at the slightly deformed food in her hand. Then she sighed. "You're right. I should never have dropped the toast in the first place. I'm... I'm so sorry! I'll be sure to amend my erroneous ways."
The ghost nodded in satisfaction.
"Then my task has been fulfilled. My unfinished business, the incident of the Dropped Toast at Midnight, has been rectified. Go, eat your buttered toast, enjoy life, and don't be stupid."
The ghost's smokey form faded, leaving behind only the image of the kitchen stove and the barely-warm feel of inedible toast.
"No... no, wait! Come back!" exclaimed Alexis. "I have so many questions! Who are you? Why did you haunt my house? Did you really die from dropped toast?" Alexis sobbed.
But she made sure to get rid of the offending piece of toast. And never, never again would she leave dropped toast on the ground for more than five seconds. The ghost had been right. It wasn't worth the risk.