"You need to take it easy on the 3 a.m. pizza consumption," the spirit whispered to her as she licked the grease off her thumb and pointer finger. The frozen pizza from two weeks ago had been demolished and lay heavy in her belly. A literal weight upon her body.
She ignored the spirit. Though she felt a minuscule guilt in the back of her mind, it had been pleasurable in the moment. The sweet pineapple, the salty pepperoni, the dense chewiness of the pan crust. Worth it. And now she could rest easy, without a craving that threatened to keep her restless in the wee hours of the morning.
"I ain't afraid of no ghosts," she said aloud. "You may be real, but you ain't got no body."
"I'm not a ghost. I am a spirit," said the spirit, irritated now.
"I'm not a human. I'm a ~woman.~"
"Alright, if you want to disrespect me, you'll just have to learn the hard way."
Ignore. She went to sleep, a deep kind of sleep full of slow dreams, and awoke languidly in the afternoon. She rolled under the blanket, blissfully stretching her body this way and that. And finally, she made her way to the bathroom where she stepped on the scale to see her current weight.
"Shouldn't be too bad," she thought.
The digital numbers quickly began appearing, settling finally on a weight that was ... 3 more pounds than yesterday?
"Like I said, I'm a spirit, not a ghost. I have powers unimaginable, you ungrateful dough ball," said the spirit. A haughty laugh filled the air.
That's the thing about spirits. They hate being mistaken for ghosts. Should you ever find yourself in the company of a spirit, identify them correctly for goodness sake. Lest you want that pizza to stick eternal to thy worldly shell.