The Haunted... What?!

"Somethin' the matter?" wriggled Carlyle, scootching closer to the stranger, along the bus booth bench, a slight drizzle catching the polycarbonate wall siding, separating bodies from the elements, while admitting a hazy view of the city dimming.

"What?!" said the old dog, his whiskers so profuse the chap couldn't tell if he'd been spoken to, at all. He certainly didn't feel sure, not with that big word ones use when they're disappointed already, asking if you "understand," or if you've, "understood."

He could picture ole Mrs. Tibby, with her massive arms crossed over chest and belly, looking down, frowning, with a treat in her other hand. But he weren't mad much.

"What's the matter?" he tried again with genuine small pup sincerity, twisting his head to mirror the lean of the fellow next to him. Surely, he was looking right at him now. Must have seen his mouth moving up and down, and figured he'd been talking to 'em all along, side by side.

The old timer's eyes gave a little glimmer of seeing, and he once again stuck his nubbly claw in his ear and gave a firm wiggle.

His jaw dropped.

"'What?' my ear--- It's haunted!"

05.02.204

The Haunted... What? challenge @AJAY9979