The Distant Whispers
The wind did not howl so much as it sighed, a low, resonant exhalation that seemed to pull the very marrow from the bones of the old stone house, a dwelling that had stood on the edge of the jagged cliffs of the Scottish Highlands since a time when the world was younger and the boundaries between the living and the dead were not so strictly defined by the laws of men but by the capricious will...
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