By Angie Dent
He’d been there a good two months when they found him. It took four firemen three hours to burrow through.
Neighbours reacted when the stench permeated their homes. They were used to the overgrowth, nightly cries of foraging foxes and rats, but this was extreme.
Upstairs was unreachable. Towers of newspapers and junkmail dating back to the 1950s. Downstairs full to bursting with bags of clothing, packaging, junkyard oddities, all filed in what seemed an orderly manner to a disorderly man.
The council demolished the house and contents, deeming it unsafe and costly. Nobody ever knew the value of its treasures.
Unfortunately I know someone like this. I think I would have moved the first paragraph down to second from the end for tension and mystique. I Like the story.
Thank you for reading Scott. Yes that would work well- good idea.
Enjoyed reading. Could make it more vivid and characterful perhaps by listing some specific items (in place of ‘junkyard oddities’) that could also add some mystery.