The market store had sat empty so long the town’s children couldn’t remember it any other way. The store rotted, windows hammered up with boards, paint flecking away, the sign fading letter by letter. There was always talk of someone buying it, opening it up again, bulldozing it, selling the land for housing, but nothing ever came of it.
There was talk of the curse too, but nobody believed that. At least, not during the day.
But in the dark of night, when shadows stretched and the wind blew cold, nobody lingered long by the ruined store.
Word Count: 97
This is for Friday Fictioneers. Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for running the challenge and Jean L. Hays for providing the photo prompt!