The Southern Gothic Labyrinth
The Blackwood Estate did not sit upon the land; it seemed to be sinking into it, swallowed by the humid, oppressive embrace of the Louisiana bayou. The house was a skeletal ruin of white columns and rotting mahogany, surrounded by weeping willows that looked like drowned giants. Clara returned to Blackwood after twenty years, carrying only a suitcase and a heavy sense of dread. She had come to...
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