It wasn't much, "Moaning" Myrtle thought to herself as she peeped over the top of her favorite stall. Moments ago there had been scuffled footsteps, a distinctive plopping, and the squealing of shoes as the figure retreated. By the time the ghost drifted up to see what had interrupted her brooding she saw something she hadn't quite expected.
Gliding over to an abandoned cardboard box she examined it. The box had clearly seen better days it's edges bent and wrinkled. The top flaps were ajar, but the contents remained shrouded. On the left short flap her full name was scrawled.
Someone researched me?
Myrtle wrinkled her nose. Even if there were something in it she wouldn't be able to grab an object. Still she dipped her hands in. She gasped as her hand touched something. Gingerly she wrapped her digits around it, a sensation she had nearly forgotten. Carefully raising it, she saw two beady eyes loom slowly back up at her.
"Mew?" a curious sound left her present's mouth. In her hands was the pale shape of another ghost of feline affinity.
Myrtle sank to a low hover cuddling the kitten. Joy swelled within her throat. At last, company.