Yeah, all right - we've got a theme week going on. I was all ready to bail on the idea and then I saw that Greg had jumped in with both feet and I figured it was best to just go with it (though I have absolutely no idea where I'll be going with mine).
Anyway. Welcome to Halloween Week!
Let's see where things go with: the visitor.
Had a productive afternoon while Max was with Kat's parents and Miles was napping. Cleaned up and organized Max's room (long overdue), took in a carload of recycling to the depot, and picked up a few little toys to use for trades with Max for all the Halloween candy he'll get trick or treating that he can't eat.
Probably got a little carried away with that last one, but I was having fun, dang it.
Anyway. Time to figure out what's going on with my week's writing.
Ryan had heard through the family grapevine that a distant cousin held the deed on an unoccupied house and had moved quickly to take advantage of the situation. He was down on his luck, as per usual, and the idea of having a proper place to rest his head while he figured out his next move - or at least to perfect his next con - was irresistibly appealing.
He arrived under the cover of darkness, not wanting the neighbours (or anyone, really) to know that he had taken up residence. So, speaking to no locals, he had no chance to be warned away. Not that he would have listened to such nonsense anyway.
It had rained that day, a steady downpour that had turned the dirt in the empty flower beds to mud and the long grass in the yard was doubled over under the weight of the rainwater. By the time Ryan had let himself in the backdoor his sneakers were filthy and his pant legs soaked. Not wanting to create a mess he knew he'd never get around to cleaning, he kicked off his shoes and dropped his pants and socks in the doorway.
The kitchen tiles were cold against his bare feet - colder than he would have expected. He moved quickly through the downstairs, the large backpack slung over one shoulder carrying all of his worldly possessions. The staircase leading to the upper floor was blessedly carpeted but he did not pause to appreciate it. Instead he hurried upstairs in search of the largest bedroom and to scout the location of the nearest bathrooms.
By the time he had decided on his sleeping arrangements he was too tired from his journey to do anything else but crawl under the sheets (which smelled freshly laundered, despite the supposed neglect he had been told about by his brother's wife's stepsister's uncle) and fall fast asleep.
He remained that way until just before dawn, when he was woken by a scream.