The Faded Road
The house stood in the shadow of the old manor, a squat stone block that had once held the servants. I have kept it. I have kept it for forty years, though the roof leaks and the floors sag under the weight of my own silence. I am not the master here. I am the ghost who refused to leave the room where he was no longer welcome. The manor itself is gone, or so they say. The new owners have razed...
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