Photo prompt © C.E.Ayr
“It’s been a while since they lived here.”
I nodded. The place was filthy. A bit stinky, too.
“Nothing a little elbow grease won’t fix.”
I wished she would shut up. The property manager’s eagerness to sell the place was obvious. Her neglect of the place was, too. She might’ve spent a bit of elbow grease before showing the space.
No matter. The sorry state of the cottage might lower her price to my range.
“Why aren’t these garbage bins outside?” I ventured.
“Oh,” she fidgeted, “those are … um … kind of urns. They’d wanted to be buried in them, indoors.”
For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers
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