It wasn’t bad as suburban apartments went, but Gwen was looking for something different. She looked over to the other woman and said, “No. I’m not taking this one either.”
She could sense that the real estate agent was becoming frustrated with her. The woman put her hands on her hips. “I think I’ve been really patience here, Ms. Barrow. Obviously I’m not showing you what you want. Do you mind telling me exactly what it is that you’re looking for?”
Looking around the empty apartment, Gwen shrugged. Then she pointed at the corner of the room. “I’m looking for a place without… that.”
The agent’s eyes followed her finger. Then she snorted derisively. “What, the ghosts?”
“Exactly.” Gwen bobbed her head. “I want an apartment that isn’t haunted.”
“Honey, I’m going to be honest with you. You’re a twenty-something with a menial job. There’s no way you can afford a place that isn’t haunted.” The real estate agent said, apparently trying to break the news gently. “But I’ve got a real nice place that only has the ghost of a bum who died in the cellar. Why don’t we look at that one? People don’t go in cellars often, right?”
Gwen sighed to herself. She’d sensed it would be like this at the outset of her house search. In the three years since every newly dead soul returned as a ghost, a haunt-free home was hard to buy if you didn’t build new. “All right. We might as well look at it.”
“You’re really going to like it.” The agent enthused.
She didn’t seem to notice that Gwen was too despondent to really pay attention. Gwen swept her broken dream aside with her the edge of her shoe as they left the building.