Friday Fictioneers: The Dump that’s Worth a Steal


If this isn’t fate, I don’t know what is. I have been looking for a place like this – secluded, private, and a way for me to make quick escapes, if it’s necessary – and I get the whole thing to myself. Perfect.

“I’ll take it,” I tell the real estate agent, “name the price. Money is no object.”

“A-are you sure, sir? No offense, but this place is a dump.” Then why did you show it to me? I want to counter but find myself smiling as plans conjure in my brain.

“Even better, I can have this dump real cheap.”

(100 words)

For Friday Fictioneers

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