The Corpse Flower

1639 Words Feb 17th, 2018 7 Pages
However, after deducting what I owe, I was still just the proud owner of mortgage papers.
My joints ached as I made my way down the hall. Ten years ago, I was a florist until my doctor diagnosed me with arthritis. I resolved then to get enough funds to draw back and live as comfortably as I could. Buying poorly managed buildings, casting out the dead beats, up the rent, sell and buy a bigger building was my strategy.
I knocked on the door of 6A with my cane. “Landlord!” The sound of the afternoon soap opera that emanated from the apartment went silent. I heard the footsteps approaching the door, the peephole went dark.
I banged again louder this time. “I’m the new landlord, come to pick up the rent.”
The door slowly opened to reveal a woman in her late sixties. She wore a red dress of ankle length, flat shoes and short grey hair. “Forgive me, I thought you might be one of those leafy green men.”
That’s all I needed. A tenant who’s not just slow in her rent, but also a nut job. “Leafy green men?”
“You must have seen them, everyone in the building has. They’re about half your height, dressed in leaves.”
They say to speak calmly to crazy people and play along. “No, I haven’t seen one, but I just bought this place and I need the rent.”
“Oh, I have the money,” She walked down the hall. “It’s in the bedroom.”
She returned holding a wad of bills,…

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