Today I'm reading "Every Sunny Monday Afternoon" or "Brittany" depending on how you feel about it. Then I'll tell you what made me think of this particular set up.

Here's the story if you're the kind who likes to read along:

It was a sunny Monday afternoon when Brittany bought her coke and gum and went skipping down Third street toward home. Slung over her shoulder, she carried her school pack with little interest. Homework was such a drag and the day was so pretty. She continued her sort of skipping, letting the bag flap up and down on her back with its meager cargo.

The teachers had a conspiracy going that they didn’t assign homework on Monday. Something about needing to recuperate from their weekend of heavy grading. Brittany paid it little attention, it meant she didn’t have to worry about getting homework done on a pretty day when all she really wanted was to be outside lounging in the sun within 30 feet of the Marsten’s back fence so Robert could see her.

One day he would see her.

Passing the Marsten’s house, she waved at Robert standing on the porch. He looked good in his white shirt, red tie, and loafers. He didn’t seem to see her, but she knew he had to hid how bad he wanted her. If he let on, he might get in trouble with Lark, his girlfriend.

Thinking about the other girl brought a frown to Brittany’s happy face. Gone almost as soon as she realized it was there, she continued on to her front door.

“Mom, I’m home.”

Katherine looked up as the front door opened by itself then glanced at the clock on the mantle. It was Monday and the right time.

Rising from her seat, she grabbed the bag the good doctor told her to get.

Brittany dropped her bag on the foyer floor and headed for the kitchen. She put the coke down on the counter with a clink and went rummaging through her pockets for her gum to put next to it. Mom always wanted to know what she spent her money on, the penny pincher.

She was in the middle of grabbing the loaf of bread off the top of the fridge when Katherine entered, a cross held before her.

“You do not belong here.”

No one told her when she bought the house it came with a ghost that showed up only on sunny Mondays. Of course, the realtor did her due diligence, she informed Katherine a murder had taken place on the property.

Brittany opened the fridge and Katherine felt the blast of cold as the girl stood in the doorway contemplating sandwich fixings.

Brittany Parsons had been murdered during her senior year at Everest High School by a psychotic neighbor. Katherine saw the rough handprints around the girl’s neck as she brandished the cross at her.

“You DO NOT belong here.” She had no prayers, though she’d been told to prepare one. Something to soothe the creature of the undead into the afterlife. All she could think about though was how she pitied the poor creature. “Brittany, you do not belong here anymore.”

The fridge door hung on its hinges, no longer moving alone. Katherine closed it.

Monday afternoon held the perfect promise of sun and Brittany bought a Coke and gum at the corner store.

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7 Weeks to SLAY: His Destroyer