Then she noticed the gnome.

She stopped.

“What in the world?”

She stared at it.

My gnome.

Her terrible blue paint job.

Sitting directly beside the outlet she wanted to use.

“Ugly little thing,” she muttered. “Move.”

She pushed it aside with her slipper.

That was when I started recording.

I stepped outside before she could plug anything in.

Monica jumped when continue reading …

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