changeyourstars8 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
changeyourstars8) wrote2006-10-03 06:37 pm
changeyourstars8) wrote2006-10-03 06:37 pm
Entry tags:
And the universe said--
-- "Here, Steph, have a heart attack free of charge."
Was sitting here going through my friends list when I hear a car pull up outside. Thinking it's my husband or my parents, I glance out the window. Nope. White four-door car. Look out the other window to see if the occupant's on the porch-- no, standing in the driveway. Young male, dark hair, no shirt. Me-- ????
So I call Chris and give a description, and ask if it's one of his friends. He says no, and that since he's leaving work early today anyway, he'll be home in a few. The guy gets in the car and drives off then, so I tell Chris no need to hurry.
Less than five minutes later, the guy's back. He wanders the driveway again for a minute before knocking on the door. I don't answer. He walks off the porch, goes back to his car, and sits there. Then he gets back out, and starts messing with the door.
I decide that the fact that Chris is doing some home renovation is a very good thing, since it means there is a hammer right there on the table. I grab it and then stand outside my office, where I have a view of both doors.
I hear more rattling at the door, then silence, and then a car engine. I look around, nobody there-- and a letter stuffed behind the screen:
"Hey (previous owners of the house who moved out almost a year ago now),
Stopped by to tell *** to quit his job before it kills his stubborn ass. I'll take care of you guys. We'll all be millionaires in a week or two. I couldn't remember where your new house was? Anyways, much love.
****"
Too. Much. Weird. And. Freaky.
Was sitting here going through my friends list when I hear a car pull up outside. Thinking it's my husband or my parents, I glance out the window. Nope. White four-door car. Look out the other window to see if the occupant's on the porch-- no, standing in the driveway. Young male, dark hair, no shirt. Me-- ????
So I call Chris and give a description, and ask if it's one of his friends. He says no, and that since he's leaving work early today anyway, he'll be home in a few. The guy gets in the car and drives off then, so I tell Chris no need to hurry.
Less than five minutes later, the guy's back. He wanders the driveway again for a minute before knocking on the door. I don't answer. He walks off the porch, goes back to his car, and sits there. Then he gets back out, and starts messing with the door.
I decide that the fact that Chris is doing some home renovation is a very good thing, since it means there is a hammer right there on the table. I grab it and then stand outside my office, where I have a view of both doors.
I hear more rattling at the door, then silence, and then a car engine. I look around, nobody there-- and a letter stuffed behind the screen:
"Hey (previous owners of the house who moved out almost a year ago now),
Stopped by to tell *** to quit his job before it kills his stubborn ass. I'll take care of you guys. We'll all be millionaires in a week or two. I couldn't remember where your new house was? Anyways, much love.
****"
Too. Much. Weird. And. Freaky.
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