The Unwinding of Blackmoor
It began with the rain. It always began with the rain. For seventeen days it fell upon the valley, not as a judgment but as a solvent, dissolving the thin layer of order that held Blackmoor together. Mrs. Gable noticed it first in the wallpaper of her bedroom. The pattern, a floral print that had been fashionable in Leeds thirty years ago, was separating from the wall in long strips, revealing...
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