FICTION | HORROR | DRABBLE

Escape Clause

There are times when fine print can work in your favor.

Photo by Jaunathan Gagnon on Unsplash

“Feel free,” said the woman managing the estate sale. “The owner said to keep whatever you find.”

Rummaging through attics is like checking ATMs. The tray is nearly always empty, but occasionally, someone mistakenly leaves cash behind.

I tug the pullstring but the light doesn’t work. A pungent odor of rotting meat nearly causes me to vomit. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I hear something crawl toward me.

“Congratulations, Mrs. Willard, the house’s escape clause has been fulfilled. As I assured you, there’s always someone curious about the attic. Your family is now free to move out.”