Music Club

Alice has been dead for twenty years, but the record club has been sending her the default monthly selection every month.
She was unmarried, had no kids, no brothers or sisters, and her parents were long gone.
The people who moved into her house kept the albums, as did all of the people who moved in after them.
Only when the house was demolished to make way for a shopping mall did the deliveries stop.
Still, if you listen carefully, right outside the bookstore, you can hear music.
Of course you can, stupid. There’s a music store there.
Overpriced, too.