The House That Ate the World
I The house had been eating for a hundred and thirty years, and Thomas Blackwood was the last man who knew how to make it stop. He arrived on a Sunday in October, 1954, in a car that smelled of gasoline and regret. The Blackwood plantation sat on a ridge above the Pearl River, surrounded by cypress trees that had outlived three generations of Blackwoods and would probably outlive him. The main...
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