Following close on the post about eavesdropping, today’s post drags another of my illicit writer habits out into the light.
Yesterday, I convinced my hubby to prowl through the house of strangers. I’d like to say that I also convinced him to dress as a ninja and carry a flashlight, but he’s learned to tell me no. Darn it.
*wonders if suggesting he carry a sword would have changed the answer*
The house in question is going up for auction in a couple of weeks and they were having an open house. I can’t resist me a good old-fashioned open house.
Honestly, I love flipping on lights, peering into closets, looking at family photos of people I’ve never met. It’s like people-watching without the people. Where are the hiding places? What’s in the basement? What is that hideous thing on the wall? How did that hole get in that door?
Are there stories lurking here? You betcha.
Maybe there’s even a story about a husband and wife who dress as ninjas and go to open houses. Hmmm…
Oh well, it was free entertainment for a Sunday afternoon. Even if no ninjas were involved. And now I have filed away yet another location to use in my fiction.