Yard Sale, Yard Tale, Yard Holy Grail - part II

...continued
The kitchen was crawly in way that I could not possibly do justice to here.
( I conciously ran my fingers through my hair checking for bugs )

Show and tell and run

In between back to back birthday parties on Saturday, I ran over to Tre's house to document the afore-mentioned house. I knew I didn't have much time before the sky opened up on me, and I didn't know if the rain would cause the floor to be more unstable that it already was. I snapped about half a dozen outside until I got to the basement door with the devil eyes. I raised my camera to try to get the door. Even with the flash there just wasn't enough light to expose anything in such deep shadow. As I looked at the picture the realization hit me that the door was shut, which wasn't how I left it. I stepped closer to see that the light hook not only been replaced into the hasp, it had been bent so one would need pliers to open it.
I suddenly felt unsettled and my camera went dead in my hands.
I went back over to Tre who was reading on her porch and I asked if she had seen anybody over there while I loaded fresh batteries into the camera.
She answered "no" initially which caused a creeping chill to start up my spine, but she then corrected herself. She recalled somebody on Tuesday in a blue pickup partially blocking her drive, walking around the property and looking irritated. We can only assume this was the guy who the mayor advised of thirty days notice to knock the house down or face fines from the city.
I decided it was in my best interest to make this a quick photo shoot rather than try to frame everything carefully.
The screen door had a fresh neon orange warning posted about the "non-habitable condition" that lay within. I read it carefully and then promptly went inside and propped the door open with a black ceramic horse with only three legs.
The second I stepped in I realized things were different.
Objects had been moved, things were missing, the house felt distinctly bitter. The plaster relief couple who had lain romantically face to face in the dark corner had been ripped asunder. The flamenco dancer in faded pink leaned against the wall, her bullfighter had been taken from her. Piles that seemed so carefully placed before were now strewn about. The pyramid of rubber animals had cascaded down the front face of the couch mountain.
There was hole the size of boot in the floor as if someone had decided to test the maximum structural integrity before walking through.
I walked quickly snap snapping along until I got the kitchen. Someone had removed the pickle jars... why would somebody take the pickle jars? The stove was too dark to get a picture of so I got the entry to the pantry and started to move towards the bedroom. I stopped dead in my tracks.
Neurons triggered, I felt cold, some deep primitive foreboding gripped me and I clicked off a picture of the entryway to the bedroom and literally ran out of the house and back across the street.
The social calendar was full the rest of the weekend so it wasn't until late last night that I started digging through the photos.
I was more than a little curious about photo #6 on the "inside" page. There was very little light in the room and no reflective surfaces. My camera has never come back with a picture having a similar result.
If someone wants to make a guess as to what that bright object on the left hand side is - I am all ears.
Outside
Inside