The Grump

A log cabin stood in the middle of the forest clearing. It was flanked on either side by overgrown grubs and trees coated with lichen. Towards the front of the house was a dried up well, which, for its crumbling façade and moss-layered bricks, looked surprisingly functional.

A gem of a site, decided the real estate agent.

Convinced he had done well, Elias Rourke eyed the ruins for the third time that afternoon, making a mental note to bump it up his client’s watchlist. A sigh of relief left his body because this decrepit location meant a fatter paycheck for him if his client, Jimmy, agreed to buy the place for yet another rags-to-riches renovation project. The deader the appearance, the more eternal its charm, Jimmy had encouraged. And this place couldn’t be any less alive than the arid wilderness surrounding it.

Elias savored his moment of triumph because it was an emotion he hadn’t felt in a while. Only two months ago he’d been battling a sorry breakup that had left him feeling more angry than sad. Mariah had cheated on him, but she’d been quick to blame the failing marriage on Elias. In less than a week, she’d moved into the neighbor’s home with virtually everything they had owned and built together. For Elias, whose wounded heart was no match for his shattered ego, fury resounded loud in the aftermath of their split. Torn up photo albums, endless bottles of whiskey, and nightmares of Mariah moaning at the porch adjacent to his deepened the rage in his heart. He vowed to never speak to her again. Forgiveness was not even in question.

Today, Elias felt a little less bitter. Instead, pride warmed his body like a ball of hot ambrosia, giving him newfound confidence. He smiled at the sky. Mariah could never deem him a weak man again. Elias dialed a number and, in under a minute, sealed the deal.