Vaporized Into Oblivion

There's a ghost that follows me on my way home from work on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. He thinks he's clever the way he hides beneath the grimy bedsheet and walks about in those worn out boots he owned when he (actually) roamed the Earth. As I walked home on Thursday, a late night chill graced the air, and I turned the corner only to find my little friend standing underneath the dew-drop shaped street lamp. The wind kicked up and ripped the sheet from his ghostly figure, but to my surprise, the ghost was gone, leaving nothing behind but his little boots.