Nothing of grand importance happened today, but, as usual, we found it difficult to stay still for too long, so we decided to finally go through the next door neighbors’ house. We ignored it at first. They didn’t change when things went bad. They were one of those groups that just sat down and died. At the dinner table no less. They were a typical American family. Three kids, mom, and dad. I should say perhaps that they are the ideal American family. Typical would imply three divorces and at least one Gothic child. They are still in the chairs they died in, which is surprising. You’d think they would have fallen by now. They have reclined. Their heads have fallen back and their jaws hang open. One child is face down in the soup in front of him. Considering they’ve been dead for over a month, nothing much has changed about them. No noticeable decomposition, no smell. The food in front of them has spoiled and gone, but their bodies have not. There’s a small portion of the populace who might find such a discovery a dream come true, but Zoic and I could not bring ourselves to even touch them. Zoic used a wooden spoon from the nearby kitchen to move Mom’s body. Zoic brushed her arm, which moves freely, without a sign of rigor mortis, but caused Mom to topple out of the chair. Her head knocked against the wall and stayed awkwardly positioned. Zoic adjusted her to look more comfortable, still using the wooden spoon.

“I don’t like this house,” Zoic said.

“I have an idea,” I replied.

I found their linen closet. Moments later, I had covered each lifeless form with a sheet. Dad was covered with a burgundy king-size, Mom with a pale blue king-size, and the children with twin Star Wars, Mickey Mouse, and Lilo and Stitch.

“All better,” I said. And it was. Mostly.

This family has a nicer TV than the one we have, but it wasn’t worth the trouble to take it off of the wall mounting. Otherwise, there wasn’t much else to take. I took the car keys out of the bowl by the door, in case we needed use of their vehicles. Zoic found a pillow pet on one of the children’s beds that she insisted on taking. Can’t stand the sight of the deceased, but she can sleep on their pillows. Odd.

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