“Sir, do you realize you were driving in the HOV lane?” The cop looked down at him through her dark shades, her cruiser’s lights painting the snowy night.
“Yes sir, uh, officer. I know that.” With both his hands on the wheel, the driver looked more confused than nervous. He kept looking at the empty passenger seat.
“And you know that HOV stands for high-occupancy vehicle?”
“Uh, yeah?” Another look at the passenger seat.
“I’m writing you a ticket for violating the occupancy requirements. You can sign it and get a fine and a point on your license, or contest it and get more points when we prove it.”
“But… I’m not alone.”
The officer peered into the car, empty but for the driver. “Is there someone in the trunk, sir? Because that’s a separate violation.”
“No, officer, see… it’s my wife. Ever since the accident, she’s insisted on traveling with me when I drive.”
“The collision that killed her.”
The copy looked at him for a long moment. “I’m sorry for your loss, sir. For future reference, ghosts do not qualify you to drive in the HOV lane. Do you understand?”
“You drive safe, now.”