“Well, there’s your problem.” The old man spat, then crossed himself. “Faerie road, out there in the marshes. Pointed to your house.”
I blinked. Twice. “What?”
“Aye. Brings the old ones out, it will. The sounds, the bangs, the cracks, the bugs. None of it the house. Their doing. All of it.”
He leaned toward me. “I know one who could fix it. But not a carpenter. An exterminator.”
Okay. “What’s his name?”
“Don’t worry about that, now,” he said. “Just … well, sometimes they’re angry when their roads are broken. Consider moving. Might be easier.”
Suddenly I really missed Chicago.
Word Count: 100
Friday Fictioneers is a weekly blog hop hosted by Rochelle. She posts a photo prompt then challenges readers to write a 100 word story inspired by the prompt. It’s a fun challenge. Give it a try! Check here for the info then write your story and post it, link up and enjoy the other stories!