Chapter 24: Public Humiliation
255 words
Sunday arrived with a humid heat that made the air sticky. I pulled up to the curb at 1:15 PM. Brenda was waiting by the mailbox, looking flustered. A nice young couple was hurrying away, shielding their toddler’s eyes.
"He won't leave, Loretta," Brenda hissed, wringing her hands. "He's... staging a protest."
I walked up the driveway, my heels clicking on the cracked pavement. Inside, the living room smelled of stale beer and arrogance. Richard sat in his recliner—the one with the duct-taped armrest—wearing nothing but saggy white briefs and a stained undershirt. He cracked open a lukewarm beer as a pair of prospective buyers walked into the room.
"Don't mind me," Richard burped, scratching his stomach. "Just the master of the house enjoying his Sunday. Be careful buying this place, the foundation is cracked. Like the owner."
The woman gasped, clutching her husband's arm. Richard grinned, thinking he’d won.
I stepped into the room, radiating the kind of calm that only seven figures in the bank can buy. I didn't yell. I didn't cry.
"I apologize for the unsightly display," I told the buyers, my voice smooth as glass. "The previous tenant has a severe infestation problem. We've scheduled the fumigation for tomorrow morning."
Richard scrambled up, his face purple. "I am not an infestation! I am a man!"
"Oh, don't worry," I said to the horrified couple, gesturing dismissively at Richard as if he were a cockroach. "The pest control team is extremely thorough. He'll be gone by noon."
End of Chapter 24
