The Rot of Magnolia Hall
The magnolia tree in front of Magnolia Hall had died thirty years ago, but the house refused to acknowledge it. It stood there anyway, a ghost of white paint and peeling porches, holding onto its name the way a drunk holds onto a promise he cannot keep. Beau Thibodeaux pulled his car onto the gravel drive and killed the engine. The silence that followed was not empty. It was the kind of silence...
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