Domestic Horror Stories #77 – The Artist

“I’m sorry, she’s turned down your offer,” said the realtor.

“Not even a counter offer?” he asked.

“You’re not local, so she doesn’t believe that you will appreciate her art.  She’s pretty convinced that she will be famous after she dies, and that the murals at the house will be priceless.”

He snorted rather rudely.

“I agree, but there’s nothing to be done,” said the realtor.

“I’ll pass the information on,” he said.

Domestic Horror Stories #75 – Far and Away

“China?” she asked.

“Yup,” he said.

“Murals aside, you have to admit this is a huge master bedroom,” said the realtor.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“I think we ought to put in an offer,” she said.

“Really?” he asked.

“The rooms are a nice size.  The price is right.  The neighborhood is right.  It looks like it’s in good shape.  The walls we’d probably repaint anyway.  The red carpet, I can live with until we can afford to replace it.  As a house it’s got a nice feel,” she said.

“I agree,” he said.  “But just so you realize, the murals may take a little more work to paint over than normal horrible paint.”

“I know,” she said.

“Okay,” he said.

“Let’s write up an offer,” said the realtor.

Domestic Horror Stories #74 – Waterfalls

“You’re going to like the bathroom better than the kitchen,” he said.

“They’re back!  Although, murals of waterfalls in the bathroom.  Is that a little too on the nose?” she asked.

“At least there is not a naked sword wench in the waterfalls,” he said.

“Oh yeah, I remember that house,” she said.

“You know that one is still on the market,” said the realtor.

“See, nobody else wants to paint her over either,” she said.

“Who is the artist?” he asked.

“On this house?  The owner.  Claudia Hammond.”

“Interesting,” he said.

Domestic Horror Stories #72 – Vistas

“Oh,” she said.

“I know it’s a little much,” said the realtor.

“I’ve never actually seen carpet this red in real life,” he said.

“What would you call that?  A mural?” she asked.

“Definitely.  The rolling hills of Italy, or something like that,” he said.

She moved to open the doors leading to the dining room.  “Oo.  In here it’s wine country,” she said.