Seeing Elvis

Everyone has seen him. My sister says that’s because the dead always come back. How? I ask. She says they come back refreshed, that’s how. All dressed for dinner dates. She’s right of course. When I saw Elvis, I was at my self-improvement seminar especially designed from women who pick bad men. The instructor said to close your eyes and picture what you want with your third eye, and when I looked, Elvis winked at me. Yes he did, too. Course, he could have passed for a used car salesman. But I’m not complaining. Not yet I'm not.