A History of Death

While Joe was chatting up the neighbor across the street, Garrett and Thomas were making a circuit of the house at 1206 Spooner Ave. Beside the front door was a large bay window; inside they could see what looked like a dining room, or den. There was no furniture, but the floor was cluttered with stacks of cardboard boxes. As they worked their way clockwise around the house, most of the windows were masked inside by curtains – possibly bedrooms. There was a back door at the rear of the house, next to a chimney. Peering through the window, they could see a living room, also devoid of furniture but cluttered with boxes, along with scattered Styrofoam drinking cups.

The House on Spooner Avenue

Joe’s phone beeped an alert. He was using it to record a video of his client’s husband sharing a very intimate coffee with his girlfriend, so he ignored the incoming message until he’d recorded their good-bye kiss, then checked his messages. There was one, from an Unknown Caller: Your package is ready for pickup at the Post Office rm 312 any time before 2:30 PM. He lit a cigarette with shaking hands as he re-read the message – what would they have to face this time?