4.9.21 Laundry Day

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Image by Gabriele Lässer from Pixabay

“Good morning, Miss Evelyn”

“Officer Reynolds!” Frail, seventy-five year old Evelyn Saunders answered brightly as she looked up from her book. “What brings you here today?”

“We had another citizen go missing last night, this time a man.”

“Oh dear, I’m so sorry.  Is there anything I can get for you? A cup of tea perhaps?”

Officer Reynolds waved her off, then pulled a picture out, showing it to her.  “No thank you, I was just wondering if you’d seen this man anywhere in the last few days.”

Evelyn took the picture of  a handsome young man with a kind face and a head of bright red curls.  He was wearing a blue striped shirt. She looked up to see Officer Reynolds staring at the Covid masks hanging from her laundry. “No, I’m sorry. My head has been buried in my book for the last few days.

Officer Reynolds stepped over to her chair and picked the bright red cover up. “I Was Born a Serial Killer?”

Evelyn nodded brightly. “Positively mesmerizing. It’s supposed to be a true story, but I can’t imagine actual demon possession, can you?”

“No,” Reynolds answered. “Do call us if you see anything?”

“Of course,” Evelyn said,  smiling as Officer Reynolds left.

“Garashkaree….” Evelyn whispered. “You get these souls only if they die in my house. If they catch me, and I go to prison, this whole deal will fall apart.”

Behind her, the voice answered. “Then stop turning their clothes into Covid facemasks.”