It was a hot afternoon in mid July and you were sitting on your porch swing, skimming over a book you’d bought from a flea market the day prior when all of the sudden, you heard footsteps approaching. You looked up at saw a man, an attractive one at that, wearing a white dress shirt and navy pants to match with suspenders, his blazer slung over his one shoulder with a suitcase in hand.

”Hello, are your parents home by chance?” He inquired. He must’ve seen the sign, the sign in your front yard that said in big blue letters “GUEST HOUSE FOR RENT”. You shook your head, your mother was at the grocery store and your father had been called into work late that morning.

“Alright then, well I suppose I’ll come back later-“ You cut him off “You’re here to check out the guest house, right?” You inquired. He turned back to face you “Yes, actually.” With that, you stood up from the swing and tossed your book down onto it. “C’mon, I’ll take you around the back.” He nodded in response, a grateful smile crossing his face as he followed your lead.