I'm Liz Sour and this is Ghosts in the Burbs, a podcast about the people of Wellesley, Massachusetts and the ghosts and monsters who haunt them.

A warning. Adults who use adult language tell me these frightening

tales. These ghost stories aren't for kids. I'm not great with the time management and I've bitten off more than I can chew again, but thank you for your patience, or at least if you don't feel patient and who could blame you?

Thanks for listening and not giving up on these stories.

I know it's endlessly annoying, but a good rule of thumb is to put an

is to put an ish on the end of any date I announce. On another note, I haven't mentioned in this in a while,

but this podcast and its collection of stories all bleed into one another like a song that never fucking ends.

People flowed in and now, neighbors, acquaintances, etc, and I do my best to refer you to episodes that contain

backstories and such, but I don't remember half the shit I've told you all. So

if you're a new listener, welcome and thank you.

beginning at episode one is the best way to catch all the details of this shit show, but I do

apologize in advance.

If you choose to go back, the sound quality of the early episodes is

absolute garbage. It's like I was recording live from the inside of a tin can. Of course

dipping in and out of episodes works too.

I'm just so close to this thing and so lost in the nine plus years of plot

that it occurred to me that I might be like that friend who drops the names of other people in her life as if you know them and

rambles on and on about their messy lives without context.

Now anyway here's our next messy chapter.

We're on a ghost story number 77. Estate sales.

We all have something that we feel a little arrogant about.

That one thing that we're certain we can do not only well, but just a touch better than other people.

...