In the late 1700s the town was a bustling seaport.
The stone building on the busy main street had been a morgue.
The bodies of departed pirates, sailors, farmers, politicians and the dead from every walk of life visited this place.
As the years moved on, a morgue on main street became unfashionable.
The businesses changed but the building remained and so did some of the spirits.
I purchased the shop a few years back, installed a wood fired pizza oven and made it into a quaint little restaurant.
I did not know the history then.
At night I lock up the place tightly. Chairs are moved, drawers are opened and nothing is damaged.
Once I found a note scrawled in French on a napkin. One time coffee was brewing when I came in early.
Customers say that the pizza is so good they get chills from eating it.
I don't think that that the chills are from the pizza.
This place has history. "If these walls could talk" is not just a saying around here.
This is from freewrite prompt "pizza"
