Bottomless pit of despair

In our new condo there is a basement closet that can eventually accommodate an elevator. Hopefully by the time we need one, we will not have cruised away our elevator money. In the meantime, we are using the closet to stash stuff--winter coats, craft supplies, and boxes of who-knows-what.

One day we began to notice an unpleasant odor each time we walked by the closet. I was pretty sure it was my bag of sheep's wool, even though, I have to say, I couldn't really detect the aroma of pasture.

Before alerting the authorities, we thought it best to empty the closet and give it some time to air out. A month went by and the aroma lingered.

The construction foreman paid us a visit to check out the mysterious mustiness but could not offer an answer. As is usually the case with unusual malfunctions, no one else had ever complained of such a thing. Water proof cement was placed all around the pit (for the elevator mechanism) and kitty litter was poured in to absorb any moisture. A week later the kitty litter was vacuumed out, and still the aroma lingers. The foreman has now gone to a higher authority for further instructions.

Mr. Gadget and I have been speculating. Is it possible we live on the site of an ancient....or recent....burial ground? Or maybe years ago a farmer buried his dead chickens or his sick pigs....or even his mother-in-law.....under our closet? And maybe this explains those weird noises we hear in the night. A bump here. A clack there. Sometimes a twack or a bonk. Maybe I should burn some incense....