"Why do you stay here?"

"Why not?"

"This isn't your grave. There's not a single real bone in this building. It's all replicas."

"Real fossils are more expensive to maintain. And they're more distant. Replicas you can build so a kid can touch, and play with, and come to understand."

"None of that has anything to do with you. Why are you here?"

"Well it's not like I know where my bones are. I'm probably oil waiting to be burned up in a car, if I haven't been spent up already. I haunted a gas station for a while, in the southwest. It wasn't very interesting."

"Do you want things to be interesting?"

"I like to learn things. There wasn't much to learn, when I was alive. It was just eat, hide, find a mate. Run with the pack. Clean your feathers. I learned that rocks and fire could fall from the sky, one day, and then there wasn't any time to learn anything else."

"So you were there, then. When the asteroid hit."

"I suppose. It's a bit of a blur. Sixty-five million years is a long time to remember details. And my mind didn't work in quite the same way, back then."

"Human ghosts think a bit differently than they did in life, too."

"So you speak with human ghosts, as well? You don't just stalk museums after hours searching for dinosaur ghosts?"

"I'm a necromancer on-call. People notice weird things, they bring me in. You knocked over one too many display cases. There wasn't even a kid in the room this time."

"It was an accident. I didn't get any smaller, when I died."

"You could be, if you focused on it. You're not that much different than a chicken, spiritually speaking. We could work on that together, if you wanted."

"Could I be small enough to fit into the junior planetarium? I've always wondered what it's like in there."

"Definitely. The constellation stories are super cute. You'll love it."