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Yellow house was grotesquely interesting and a bit dilapidated.
Abandoned since we neighbors could remember.
I have always wanted to buy it said cousin Gigi.
Or family has heard her say this since she was in kindergarten.
She purchased it last year, when she was thirty-eight.

Without walking through it?
Raccoons and rats are the probable inhabitants.
Some of the other relatives thought this was ridiculous.
I knew it would turn out well.
Gigi is the luckiest person I have ever met.

She made a fortune taking risks.
Investing in current technology without full knowledge.
Independent, she can work from home, and now the yellow house is it.
Why would she move from New York City to Missouri? Grandma asked.
Grandma has never been to New York City.

The hair on the back of my neck stood up
When I saw the sold sign at 103 Riverdale Place.
I knew my cousin Gigi had bought it.
She has wanted it forever.
We will finally live close to each other again.

Have you warned your crazy cousin about the ghosts?
Mrs. Goble is the neighborhood gossip, superstitious and suspicious.
She won’t mind, I reassured her.
Gigi danced up the sidewalk on moving day, ready to play.
Prettier than I remembered.

I embraced her and giggled.
There are ghosts, she announced.
I nodded happily.
Our family is clairaudient and clairsentient.
We can hear them and feel them.

There was mystical whisper and chatter when she unlocked the front door.
I won’t have to have any seances here, Gigi told me.
These spirits are joyous, giddy, and open.
Yellow house finally had the owner she had been grooming for thirty years.
I knew all was well.

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