The Red Clay Dirge
The humidity of the Mississippi Delta was not a weather condition; it was a physical weight, a wet shroud that clung to the skin and dampened the soul. For Silas, the world had shrunk to the borders of the Blackwood estate—a sprawling, decaying monument to a grandeur that had vanished two generations ago. The house, a skeletal structure of white pillars and peeling paint, sat amidst a sea of...
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