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Summary
Ghost's life doesn't flash before his eyes, rather he's standing at the base of a tree. Its boughs stretch endlessly in every direction, thick enough for him to walk on, with figs hanging plump and ripe, ready for the taking; their deep purple hues standing out against the blinding white light of the sky, and he notices each one reveals a moment of him, of what his life could have been. He's pleasantly surprised that most figs contained Johnny - that every possible future leads to him.