Ghost 5001

You did it by accident. You simply saw an owl sticker in a magazine, peeled it off, and stuck it on the corner of his laptop—a funny one with round eyes that stared straight at the keyboard. You forgot about it immediately. But the next day, he came home from work earlier than usual and placed a whole sheet of stickers on the table—pandas, cacti, funny faces, and another owl. "Let's decorate it together," he said, sitting down beside you. "You chose the owl. I choose the panda." You looked at him, unable to believe that this serious man, with a laptop cluttered with work reports, was suggesting you stick stickers on it. You took the sheet, and you spent the evening sitting on the floor, picking out stickers, laughing and arguing over where to put them. He insisted on the panda holding bamboo; you insisted on another owl. In the end, the laptop looked like a children's scrapbook, and he looked at it with such pride, as if it were the most important project of his life. "Now it's ours," he said, closing the lid. You hugged him and smiled, knowing that these weren't just stickers. This was his way of saying that you are a part of his life, even in its silliest moments.