One cold rainy night, a man was driving down a dark and windy road and he saw a girl walking on the side of the road. She was soaked to the bone and he stopped and asked her if she needed a ride. She climbed in and he offered his coat to help warm her up. She indicated her name was Anna and she lived about a mile from where they were. She shivered as she spoke, her lips almost blue. When they got closer to her house she pointed it out. "This is where I live", she said as she lifted her skinny finger so the kind man pulled into the driveway and Anna climbed out and disappeared into the darkness.
The next day he realized Anna still had his coat. If it weren't for the fact it was a leather jacket worth quite a lot of money, he would have forgotten about it. Since he knew where Anna lived, he figured it wouldn't do any harm if he stopped by and asked for his coat.
He knocked on the door and an older lady answered. He explained who he was and why he was there. When he finished with his story, she started to cry. "What is wrong? What did I say?" he asked.
"You see, I had a daughter named Anna but there is no way it could have been her. She's been dead for five years; she died five years ago last night in a car accident. She is buried in our backyard in the family cemetery. Come with me and I will show you her tombstone."
The woman and the man walked to the backyard and there, draped over Anna's tombstone was his leather jacket.
[Insert evil laugh here]
R. K. Avery