pexels-photo-750319.jpegThe house next door to me is empty. Neighborhood gossip says that the previous owner died in it. I have no idea if that’s true or not.

It went on the market a while back and took forever to sell. It did, eventually, and the new owners have had a construction crew in for almost two weeks now.

I have yet to meet the new owners.

Today, while I was out gardening, an unmarked white van pulled up in front of the house. The following occurred.

The truck driver approached one of the workers. “Do you live here?”

“No, I work here.” The construction worker scratched his head. “Do you need something?”

“I’ve got a delivery. It’s got to get inside, out of the sun. Can you move your truck?”

The construction worker turned. “Boss, he needs you to move your truck.”

At that point, a large – like, six foot long, four foot high crate… not box, crate… was lowered out of the truck. The truck driver started looking a little agitated. “Seriously. We got to get this inside.”

I turned to my significant other. “Honey, we got ourselves a vampire for a neighbor.”

My significant other, a sweet man, but not up on his vampire lore, shook his head. “It’s a couch.”

“Do couches have to get out of the sun?” I pointed at the crate. “Do they come crated?”

“It’s not a vampire.”

“You don’t know that.” I threw down my hoe and grabbed the car keys. “I’ll get the garlic. Carve a few stakes while I’m gone.”

“Maybe it’s a nice vampire,” he shouted after me. “You know, like, Vampire Blogs, or what that show was you used to watch.”

Vampire Blogs? I don’t even know. “Carve the stakes.” I checked the time. Still a few hours before sunset. Behind me, my S.O. had gone back to gardening.

Why am I the one who has to do the saving?


Self-published on Amazon. Have some content on Wattpad. Sometimes I'm on Twitter. I have a Facebook page. I like to write short stories. I can be snarky. You can find me preparing the garden for winter.

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