he“It’s beautiful, Alfredo. The immaculate landscaping and security play yard. The mammoth-sized porcelain-encased pool. Reggie will love the three-meter board. Five bedrooms and baths upstairs- one for each of the kids. One for my office. That magnificent master and bath.”
Evonne lay her head on my shoulder as her whispered enthusiasm tickled my ear.
“It’s a great deal. But it’s a foreclosure and it’s been on the market seven years,” I replied. “Everyone has been so secretive about the history of the estate. Seven owners in ten years. Half off the original asking price. There has to be a reason, dear.” I tried to maintain a firmness in my voice.
“I truly don’t care about its history, Alfredo.” She was nipping my ear. “I want this…”
Her passionate words were interrupted by a swishing breeze and an incandescent glowing from the entryway’s upper balcony.
We stood there in shook.
The realtor began to stutter. “There have been reports of mysterious manifestations for some of its past residents.” He was turning pale. “I think that these elaborate fabrications lend a certain fortuitous uniqueness to your future home.”
It was then that the iridescent fortuitously unique images solidified and spoke.
Written for Sunday Photo Fiction. Requirements: Create a 200 word flash using the photo prompt as a muse.