527

“Mike, hi I’m Geena Szusza, welcome to 527 Lightbearer Way. Three bedrooms, two baths, roof replaced less than ten years ago—“
“Hold the phone, what house? You don’t mean this thing.” Mike pointed at 527, a baby blue Cape Cod hanging recklessly off the end of its street.
“527 is a hidden gem. Upgraded energy efficient windows and original heart pine floors throughout.” Geena made a grand sweeping gesture and a shovel full of sandy dirt rained down the cliff precipice. With a yip, Mike scampered back. Geena straighten her back and marched forward.
“Mike notice the mature black walnut trees and this flowering dogwood is gorgeous simply gorgeous. You can’t pick one of these up at the hardware store clearance rack.”
The realtor climbed the swaying front porch. “Now there was a little itty bitty flood slash landslide with a touch of devastating soil erosion. Look at these killer views, just look.” Geena donned a safety helmet.
“Am I being linked? This house is an ant’s fart away from sliding down into oblivion. I’m not setting my pinkie toe in that death—“
Geena extended her arm with an extra safety helmet. “Did I mentioned the kitchen newly renovated, Carerra marble counters, brand new appliances, chef stove,” Geena said wriggling the helmet. “And you will love the wine fridge.”
“Wine fridge!” Mike grabbed the helmet and scrambled after her.

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