A bold notice Sellotaped to the scrubbed yellow wall read AUCTION OF CONTENTS.
Reg scrutinised the wind-blown poster, it confirmed what he had heard. He took a photo of himself standing in front of the building to remind him of this day.
He had purposely not returned for more than fifty years, but as a child he had known the place very well. There were good times, but they had been outweighed to sinking point by the bad.
A man in an expensive overcoat took his contact details at the door and handed him a plan of the building. Reg didn’t need the guide; he remembered every inch of the place. He trudged down the passageway, noting peeling paintwork, scuffed floorboards and the musty smell were the same as his day.
Reg hadn’t expected so many people. He supposed they were dealers, but maybe there were some troubled sightseers like himself.
Halfway down the passageway he paused looking for the familiar metal plate. It wasn’t there. A middle-aged woman excused herself, reached across him and opened the door. Reg sucked in a lungful of air, fearful how he’d react when he saw inside. The woman looked around the room perplexed, studying her guide. It was empty of furniture but cardboard boxes overflowed with tattered textbooks.
Reg looked impassively. He thought of bare walls, an underpowered lightbulb, bars at the window. A metal rack screwed into the wall. He heard children sobbing.
The room was still the horror chamber he remembered.
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Words: Richard Rooney
Illustration: A.I.
Flash Fiction 250
Flash Fiction 250 