The Distant Promise
The house breathes around you, a vast, hollow lung filled with the stale, copper taste of dust and old wood, and you stand in the center of the drawing room where the wallpaper, once a delicate pattern of willow trees, has now peeled back in long, flaking strips that resemble the skin of a corpse, and you realize that you have not moved from this spot in three days, sitting in the high-backed...
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