Welcome to the daily Three Things Challenge.
Use your imagination and creativity using one, two or all three words that may or may not be related. There are no restrictions regarding length, style, or genre, though please keep it family friendly.
Tag your responses with 3TC, #threethingschallenge or TTC, and you can add Di’s logo if you wish.

Looking forward to reading your responses.
Your three words today are:
SMUDGE
UNCLEAR
BLEMISH
Twila had just moved into her house. She loved the sound of it: “My House.” At first, she wondered if something might be wrong with it since it was priced so low and in a gated community. Plus, it had been on the market for well over a year and the previous owners put the house up for sale and immediately moved away. But, when the inspector came, he said everything was in order and that it was safe to move in. Twila believed him.
After schlepping boxes and unpacking all day, Twila was exhausted and turned in early. Since her furniture would not be delivered until the following day, she unrolled her sleeping bag and crawled in. She was asleep in no time.
Around 3:00am she was awakened by what sounded like a slamming door. Her heart was pounding with fear. She was frozen; afraid to move, almost afraid to breathe. Then she heard it again. Another loud slam. She stifled a scream and burrowed deep into her sleeping bag. Eventually she fell asleep.
The next day she perused every room in the house except the attic. She’d ask her dad to do that. Everything seemed fine, nothing out of place. The front door was locked, just as she left it. Twila chalked it up to her imagination, being exhausted and sleeping in a strange, new place. Just to be on the safe side, however, she decided to smudge her house. Can’t hurt, might help. The sage aroma will make the house smell nice too.
After the furniture was delivered and everything was in place, she found her blue sage smudge stick, lit it and went through every corner of every room and doorway. She smudged the basement twice.
All was quiet for a couple of weeks.
Then late one Saturday night, Twila was almost asleep when heard her name being called. It was from a deep, loud voice she didn’t recognize. The Voice was quiet for maybe 30 seconds then it started again, louder.
“Who are you?” She tried to sound tough and unafraid, although neither were true. “What do you want?”
The Voice responded but was unclear. It was a different language that Twila had not heard before.
“In English, please!”
“You are not welcome here. Get out, bitch!”
Twila almost peed her pants. The lamp on her nightstand began rocking back & forth and crashed to the floor. The mirror above her dresser suddenly shattered into a zillion shards.
Screw this!
“Okay, okay!” she yelled in the toughest voice she could muster. “You win! I’m leaving now.”
Silence.
Still in her pajamas, Twila grabbed her purse and keys. She drove like a madman to her parents’ house.
The next day, the house was back on the market.


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