“Look,” my wife said, pointing. “All the attic windows of the mansion are open.”
We walked by the old place almost every morning and had never seen any sign of activity, though my wife pointed out that somebody must keep the lawn so immaculate.
I glanced up. Sure enough, every attic window was open wide, though the bright sunlight left the interior in deep shadow.
“What do you think is going on?” she asked. “You think it sold?”
I shrugged. Then the dog crapped.
“Hand me a bag,” I said.
She just stood there, staring.
Every single attic window was closed.
Spooky! I really liked this, especially the dramatic last line.
Oooo, interesting! Extremely creepy, great writing!