Carrie leant the brush against the counter and checked the room again. Cardboard was stacked neatly in one corner, bubble wrap in a heap next to it and the twelve black bin bags of crap from twenty years neglect were by the door.
She sighed and dusted her hands off. Not bad for the first day.
The fading sunlight tumbled in through the stain-glass windows as she pattered towards the door.
‘De-consecrated,’ she murmured. ‘Just another word for abandoned.’
She spun and eyed up the old alter, broken and grimy with dirt. She smiled.
‘Not for much longer,’ she said.