Hair-bound: Fantasy

The creepy old house on top of the creepy old hill, past the creepy fence, in the creepy small town where she felt like all the residents stared at every move she made--that creepy old house was hers. Worse, the only real use for the house was living in it, and she wasn't in a position where she could turn down a windfall like that. Working from home meant that there was no real justification for maintaining the expense of an apartment in the city when she could just as easily telecommute and get a hotel room once a month to do the in-person meetings, all for vastly less money than keeping an apartment that she could tolerate living in. The old house did have enough space to keep from triggering her claustrophobia, at least, she would give int that. It was almost as if it had expected the residents to suffer as she did. The creepiest thing she could find in the creepy old house was a photograph in a gold frame, wrapped around and around with hair. She hesitated to cut the hair off, but she pried it apart enough to glimpse the photo beyond.


Inspiration: Oh, a strand of hair that wound up on top of the photo of Phil that sits on my desk.
Story potential: Medium?
Notes: Because weird? I have no idea what to expect from this, which is good, I guess.