The Pale Path
You stand in the foyer of the house you are about to sell, the air thick with the dust of decades and the specific, metallic tang of damp wood, and you realize that you are not just a woman standing in a room but a vessel, a hollowed-out conduit through which the spirits of the dead have flowed for forty years, and the house is not a place you have lived in but a body you have inhabited, its...
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