It's a warm summer evening; our little group has heard about this house, but have never ventured near. It's been standing empty for a number of years, a victim of a poor real-estate market and a bad reputation. It's in a nice neighborhood, and in its day must have been quite lovely, but now is shabby and rundown.
We pick our way through the overgrown garden in the back, trying to keep quiet lest we rouse the neighbors. The idea was just to get a peek, but as we get close, we stop dead in our tracks. In the window of the downstairs parlor, an eerie blue-green light is shining, and music is playing.
As it finally stops, the light fades, and we find ourselves able to move again. You fish a flashlight out of your pocket and shine it in the window, only to see this:
What, or who, made that music?
We hasten out of the garden, and make our way up the street to find a place where the lights are bright and the drinks are strong. None of us will forget that recital any time soon.
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