The Pale Shadows
You are standing in the hall. The floor is cold. It is wood. It is old. The varnish is cracked. Like skin. You feel it through your boots. You do not move. You are not supposed to move. The walls breathe. They are damp. The damp is grey. It climbs. It eats. The house is dying. You are dying with it. This is the truth. You have known it for years. The silence is loud. It presses against your...
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