"Hey man," said the ghost to the writer, noticing his depression. "What do you think if we team up? I’ll write, you watch, and who knows something beautiful might come from our collaboration."

"Are you thinking of a takeover?" asked the writer, who had no interest in letting someone else take the credit, even though he couldn’t put a single word on paper.

"Are you crazy?" said the ghost. "I’ve only been given the spirit and thought you might want to know. Collaboration isn’t so bad, is it? Nobody even knows I exist, and it’s not like I can spend money anyway."

The writer thought for a few seconds it was true, he was worthless and out of ideas. And if this idiot ghost knew better, then... In his mind, he already saw the money pouring in, and he grinned widely as he agreed.

"Let’s give it a try." A firm handshake wasn’t possible, but a spoken word was as good as a contract.

Many prosperous years followed—until the ghost had had enough. Unlike what he had expected, the writer had only grown more negative, his writer’s block never lifting. With every financial success, his drunkenness had worsened.

"That’s enough," said the ghostwriter as he slowly faded away, along with all the books he had ever written. Just as quickly as the success had begun, the has-been writer faded into obscurity.

@gertu hosts the contest "let's talk about.." see @hive-166850
this story is combined with 3 prompts provided by @freewritehouse