In the end, the death of Mr. Evans still remained a mystery. Some thought it was an unknown mugger while others thought it was a family relation with a grudge. Others thought it was some kind of conspiracy against the old man. Maybe he knew too much. Perhaps too little.
But as darkness settled over the town months after Mr. Evans's death, people turned their attentions elsewhere. Some started packing and others knew they needed a changed but didn't know how. People still sat in the same chair at the coffee shop, others still went to the same job. Change is hard.
Bea stood behind the mailroom counter shredding Mr. Evans's old letters, junk mail, and bills. She seemed lost in thought. She paused when she saw an unusual letter from an auction house. She opened it as if it were her own.
Dear Mr. Evans,
We are very much interested in the set of sterling cards you offered to us to sell for you. We have tried to contact you several times and this is our last effort. They are indeed worth a great deal and we would be happy to find a buyer for you.
Please contact us as soon as possible.
Best regards,
Mr. Jones
Sotheby's Inc.
Outside, the evening seemed to grow even darker. The street lights' pools of light seemed to be closing in on themselves. People were reluctant to leave businesses or restaurants. Others, who were caught out in the deepening darkness, felt as if they were going blind.
The light from the street lamp shone through the rear window of the museum. The cards reflected the light as if they were sending out a signal to anyone who might want to find them. Just pass the reflection, on the floor, lay Elwood Clark in a small pool of his own blood.
This is your last blog. The last plague is a deep darkness that descends onto the town. Does your character succumb to the darkness, or do they move into the light?
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