Page 41 of Meet Me After Life

I see a buff lamb-shifter peer through the window and bleat aggressively before he disappears back behind the moth-bitten curtains.

‘I think some of its charm gets lost over the phone – there’s real potential here,’ I say as I climb the creaking wooden staircase and reach the wraparound balcony.

‘Potential for pneumonia, maybe. Is that black mould growing on the ceiling?’

‘No, no I think it’s, um, like an abstract mural or something.’ I cringe, muster my courage and raise a fist to the waterlogged front door. It promptly falls inwards onto the floor.

‘That’ll be sixty-seven dollars.’

‘Gah!’

Behind me stands a long-legged green goblin with a brief case in one hand and a phone she’s texting with in the other. Her undivided attention stays trained on the screen.

‘Hello.’

‘You’re late.’

‘Oh, actually, I’ve been here a while, I just wasn’t sure if I should head in or not.’

The green goblin tsks without looking at me, still tapping away on her phone. ‘Sixty-seven dollars.’

‘Oh, right. Sorry.’ I fish out the cash I was intending as savings towards my bond and hand it to her. Good thing I just got paid from the library or this could have been really uncomfortable.

The green goblin takes the cash and pockets it before walking over to the front door. ‘Follow, mortal.’

‘I don’t think you should go in there,’ Lavender pipes up. Peering through the camera and looking dubiously at the indiscernible meat source that hangs from the ceiling on jerky hooks.

‘Shh!’ I try to turn the sound down on my phone but it’s too late. They did say no communication devices allowed.

For the first time since I met her, Green’s black, sharp eyes find mine and pin me to the spot. ‘No phones allowed.’

‘Fair enough.’

‘Miller, don’t you dare⁠—’

I click the phone off and cringe. Lotta that happening today. Lav’s gonna have my arse when I get home tonight.

The green goblin nods and then goes back to leading me through the home while she stares at her screen. It’s a real talent considering the state of the place. There’s barely a place on the floor untouched by waste. Goblins are good at a great many things, recycling is probably their most notable work. It’s why they won so many seats in the governing council. That, and the fact they’re run by a mafioso named King Gob, who plays the lap steel. He has dirt on pretty much every legal power known.

It’s an old home, but it does have some perks. There’s a gaping hole in the lounge room roof that acts as a skylight. The walls are painted with sand paper and there’s a small army of mice scurrying around that expertly avoid the pointed heel of Green’s shoe as she struts through the home without looking where she’s going.

‘So, has this dreamboat been on the market for long?’ My laugh is shrill, even to my own ears. I lean against a banister before I can stop myself. I don’t know how I manage to keep my footing and not collapse right along with it.

‘That’ll be eighty-three dollars.’

That’s actually quite reasonable. I dig through my bag and find the envelope with my savings in it and hand her another wad of cash. Before turning and being jump-scared again. Because my life is a horror story and the viewers would be remiss if there wasn’t one every chapter.

I turn and face the sheep-shifter I encountered earlier and a pig goblin with luscious blonde hair. I wonder what her hair care routine is?

‘BLEH,’ the Lambshifter bleets. He is very tall and very buff, with sheepish features and a shy disposition.

‘Snort,’ the pig goblin articulates.

‘Ah you must be⁠—’

‘The owners,’ Green interrupts in a monotone voice.

‘The owners,’ I concur.