I left the small condo I had rented and she floated behind me. What ghosts can and cannot do is a little vague, honestly. Some choose to float everywhere they go and others choose to walk and some do a little of both. Some walk through walls, but I have seen a few wait for the doors to be opened before going in. I asked one why once and she just shrugged. “It just seems better that way. Like I'm intruding less.”

“Like, what's your idea?” Lona asked me, spinning around me. Now that I looked at her dress a little closer, I could tell it was a costume dress. The stitching was wrong and it was in a weird in-between two styles of fashion. Talking to ghosts, you learn a lot about the ways things used to be done. The only problem is that none of it is very useful for day to day life. She wrapped her arms around my neck and I pulled her along. It was strange. She was effectively weightless but there was still resistance. I guess it is kind of like having a pair of headphones get caught on something. There is something stuck but it is not substantial enough to really stop you.

“I think there might be a way to change things up a little bit so that you can wear something other than that dress.

She spun around to face me and gestured to the dress. “You don't like it?”

I shrugged noncommittally. I did not like the dress, now that I noticed how anachronistic it was. She filled it out well enough and she looked good enough in it, but it was not period-accurate and it was kind of weird talking to what was effectively a Renaissance Fair version when I had spent my entire life around the real thing. In some ways, talking to ghosts is like being a time traveler. “It's not really that. But wouldn't you like to be able to wear different clothes?”

She looked down at her dress and nodded. “Yeah. I miss pants. And snap bracelets. I totally haven't seen those in a while!”

“Yeah, snap bracelets haven't been popular for years.”

“Oh, that's sad, they were rad.”

“Rad also isn't a word people use anymore.”

“I know. I'm old.”

“How old are you, really?”

“Uh . . . I guess it would be like 40ish now?”

“No, I mean . . . how old were you when you . . .” I broke off. I keep breaking my own rules for talking to ghosts. I also caught people staring at me. I took out a pair of headphones I had and put them in so that I could at least pretend I was talking on the phone.

“Oh . . . I was 21. I actually died just after my birthday.” She said sadly and sank to the floor. I was still effectively dragging her so I bent down and pretended to retie my shoes before dragging her to her feet and pulled her along with me.

“This is going to be weird, then.”

“What is?”

“Look, I'm almost thirty. I'm old. I don't know anything about fashion, but I figure we can try a couple of things and see if it works. But I feel kind of like a creepy old man.”

“I mean, I'm older than you, though. Technically, anyway.”

“Yeah, but you're younger than me and still think snap bracelets are cool.”

“They are cool!”

So, a lot of media says that ghosts are trapped in a specific location or to specific items. This is and is not the case. The older a ghost gets, the more they need something representative of them, or they just disappear. And I do not know where they go. One day they will be here and the next, whatever they were attached to was removed or lost and they disappear. Younger ghosts are a little more flexible, though. I have heard that some ghosts just last as long as their children then disappear. Some last hundreds of years. Sometimes, famous ghosts last centuries or decades. I found someone online who claimed that Shakespeare was still alive. But it is the internet, so who knows if they were telling the truth.

I took her to a clothing store. It was filled with all kinds of different materials and clothes and I was uncomfortable. I know nothing about fashion. Like I said. I have several anime waifu shirts that I just wear because they come with a subscription service I subscribe to. Beyond that, I have some polos that I wear for work and a tuxedo I bought for a wedding and have not worn since. I am pretty sure it still fits, though. She clung to my arm as I led her to the woman's section. I got some weird looks from the staff and other shoppers alike but I shrugged them off. One of them actually walked up to me and said “The men's section is over there.”

I followed her finger and nodded. “Thank you, but I'm actually buying a gift for a friend and I don't think she'd like to get men's clothing.”

Lona laughed softly and then darted all around. I watched clothing rustle as she passed and I watched her pick things up and I went over to the section she had landed on and started pretending to sift through it, too. The woman who had kindly tried to guide me to the men's section eyed me suspiciously. My apparition friend got my attention by putting her hand through my shoulder and I shuddered. When I looked at her, her fingers were pushed back up to the surface of my skin and clothes. She and I both stared at her hand frowning. When she spoke, her voice wavered. “J-John. How is this supposed to work?”

“How is what supposed to work?”

“Like, I can't like just put on clothing.” Her voice had steadied. Good. I will just give her something to think about and we can just make this a fun day.

“When I was a kid, I asked a lot of questions. My favorite was to ask how ghosts choose if they're floating or standing. The most common answer I got was 'I don't know, I just can.' But some ghosts told me that they would just make a decision and roll with it. Some had to think really hard to float and some said that it was just like walking. It is the same thing with not sinking through the ground and to the center of the earth. A minor effort of will and your good, right?”

“Yeah, I guess. I just know that I can, like, fly and then I can.”

“Exactly. Now, I have a hypothesis, but to be honest, I don't know many ghosts who might be willing to try this. They're too old and like their clothes. But I figure you might want to change things occasionally. And our fashion isn't too different than 90's fashion. So, you want to try it with me?”

“Yeah, I guess. I mean, I've gotten used to the dress, but I do miss pants. It is nice not having to shave my legs anymore. It's really the best of both worlds. They stay smooth and I don't have to shave them.”

I thought about this for a moment and then nodded. I was not going to pretend to understand the intricacies of any of this. “So, I think it's just a matter of focusing on what you want to wear and I think it will change for you.”

She seemed to consider this and then nodded. “Like, let's try it!”

We spent the next hour or so going through different clothes and eventually she found something. The helpful lady kept watching me. At one point, Lona lifted something off of a shelf and the poor woman must have just seen something floating midair. She shook her head and walked away. I guess she must have gone home because I did not see her again. Eventually, we found a combination of clothes that Lona liked and she just sat there, taking them all in.

There was a flicker and I saw something change. Her dress disappeared and the clothes she chose appeared for a moment. I watched curiously. It changed her shape a lot. She looked up into my eyes and all of her clothes disappeared. She was standing completely naked in front of me. She gasped and covered herself and I turned around. She screamed and slapped my back. “You pervert! You were thinking about me naked! That's the real reason you wanted to do all of this is so you could see my goods!”

“No! No, I promise that's not it!” She went silent for a few moments and I risked a glance back. She was grinning at me. Her clothes had changed. She was wearing those tight pants that girls and some men wear that hug their legs so tight that I think it is a miracle they can get blood in their legs, much less be able to walk. But I guess that wouldn't be a problem for a ghost. She was also wearing a loose, black shirt that hung off of one shoulder and did not cover her naval. It had a retro 80's design on it and just said “Synthwave” in a cursive font. She turned slightly and smacked her butt.

“Well, what do you think? Is it everything you imagined, perv?” She teased, hand still resting on her rump.

“It looks good. Really good.” She concentrated for a moment and make up appeared around her face. It was nice looking. I have no idea what she did but, she obviously knew her face and knew how to accent it. She turned back to me and bent over, which allowed me to look straight down the shirt, where I saw that she was not wearing a bra. I averted my eyes quickly. Not because it was not nice to look at, just the opposite, in fact. I muttered, “Oh god, this is going to be like Cynthia all over again.”

“Whose Cynthia?” She asked. She had closed the distance in an instance. Some ghosts can do that. Just disappear and reappear wherever they like.

“It's a long story,” I say, somberly. She frowned but let it go. She 'tried on' a few more types of clothes until she had one, gotten a lot faster at it and two had a few outfits to choose from. When we walked away from the section, her new clothes faded and her dress reappeared. It took her a few moments to get her new outfit back on. She had to concentrate really hard to do it. But it stuck, mostly. There were a few flickers here and there. But she definitely looked better like this than she did as a reject from Romeo and Juliet.