when i was 18, i had a holiday job at an estate agency
they sent me to see if a tenant had died, as he hadn't been seen for a while. creepiest properties you've ever seen, a pair of victorian mausoleums converted into horrible flats. down a long driveway, old, dark, just... horrible. this particular flat was the worst of the lot, being the basement with its own entrance.

and when i got there, the electricity was off. i had to go and get a torch.

the flat was beyond disgusting, but there was no corpse in the lounge or the bedroom. or the bathroom. that just left the kitchen.

i pushed the door open - and screamed and screamed, as the whole room came alive with flies, peeling off some chunk of flesh and zooming everywhere. it turned out later to be a lump of ham or something, but fucking hell, it was horrific.
( rachelswipe with a fork, Wed 16 Jul 2014, 15:59, 1 reply, 10 years ago)

Nice

( sporters I’m sincerely gratitude to you, Wed 16 Jul 2014, 16:04, Reply)

in hindsight, what the fuck were they thinking, sending the stupid posh 18 year old summer student there?
this was the same landlord who stormed into the office to see why we couldn't let his horrid flats, keys around his waist on a massive chain like jacob marley. when told he had a squatter and it would take weeks to evict him, he growled, "the FUCK it will," and tossed the dude onto the a6, sleeping bag and all.

shame as they were the most fantastic pair of victorian houses underneath the grime, with massive gardens. hopefully someone has wrestled them from him and refurbished them by now.
( rachelswipe with a fork, Wed 16 Jul 2014, 16:06, Reply)

of victorian houses
him her
( sporters I’m sincerely gratitude to you, Wed 16 Jul 2014, 16:10, Reply)