WellesleyWeston Magazine

FALL 2016

Launched in 2005, WellesleyWeston Magazine is a quarterly publication tailored to Wellesley and Weston residents and edited to enrich the experience of living in two of Massachusetts' most desirable communities.

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W e l l e s l e y W e s t o n M a g a z i n e | f a l l 2 0 1 6 208 "It is," Pam agreed, taking a sip of her coffee. "I had it appraised; it's worth around $11,000." "Holy hell," I said. "Whoever left it mustn't have had any idea of it's worth!" "Oh, I think they knew," Pam said. "I knew the first day I brought it "Oh, I think they knew," Pam said. "I knew the first day I brought it home what I had on my hands. That day the dog ran out of the house and got hit by a car, which was totally out of character for him. Then that night we heard footsteps above our heads, in the attic." "Well, damn," I thought, that white, wrought-iron bed frame was as good as gone. My daughter could sleep on an IKEA toddler bed like every other four-year-old kid. I'd be damned if some ghost was going to follow me home from the dump. "Your poor dog," I said, reminding myself to be empathetic. "But who is Elizabeth?" TO READ THE REST OF THE STORY and other spooky tales by Wellesley resident Liz Sower, visit her blog at www.ghostsintheburbs.wordpress.com or on iTunes at Ghosts in the Burbs. Follow Liz on Twitter @ghostsintheburbs and on Facebook at www.facebook.com/ghostsintheburbs/. Be Creative This page is designed to give our readers the opportuni- ty to express themselves creatively. If you have a short piece of fiction or nonfiction (300-500 words), a poem, illustration, or photograph depicting life in Wellesley and Weston, we would love to hear from you. Please email your submissions to jill@wellesleywestonmagazine.com. "we heard footsteps above our heads" last but not least P E T E R B A K E R Had I heard of it? Yes. Was I obsessed with it? More than a little bit. "I love that place!" I declared. "I used to enjoy it too," Pam replied. "I'd grab a latte and meet a girlfriend there every Monday morning. It was such a rush finding little trinkets." "I know!" I said excitedly. "Last summer I nabbed a white, wrought- iron bed frame for my oldest daughter. I sanitized the hell out of it, you know, bed bugs and all, and then re-sprayed it white. Like new!" "Yes, well, I got the valentine there, and, frankly, I'd rather have the "Yes, well, I got the valentine there, and, frankly, I'd rather have the bed bugs," Pam said, glancing at the shelled masterpiece. "No! Who would leave something like that at the dump? It must be worth a fortune."

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