V-07: The Southern Ghost

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2026-06-18 11:35:07 -

The heat in Georgia was a physical weight, a wet blanket that smelled of jasmine and decay. I remember the first time I saw the Man. He lived in the ruins of the Beaumont estate, a place where the columns were strangled by wisteria and the paint peeled like dead skin. He was a ghost of a man, eyes clouded with a grief that had no name. I was not a man, though I had the shape of one in the way...

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