You’re my agent, damn it! It’s your job to get me assignments that best suit my many talents.
Look at this place. Miles from anywhere. Walls covered in ivy. Glass missing from the windows and where the hell is the roof? I don’t care what they’re paying I’m not spending a single night in this place.
What if it starts raining? You know water plays havoc with my ball and chain. Once the rust gets in it’s a devil of a job getting rid of it.
I’m sorry Jamie you’ll simply have to find me another haunting.
Preferably somewhere drier.
A 100-word story for Friday Fictioneeers.
Photo courtesy of Roger Bulltot