The Faded Masquerade

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 15:08:08 -

The house was breathing. That was the only way Margaret could describe it. Not the settling of old bones in the foundation, nor the wind whistling through the gaps in the eaves, but a rhythmic, wet expansion and contraction that seemed to emanate from the walls themselves. It was a Tuesday, or perhaps a Wednesday; time had become a viscous fluid in the manor, pooling in the corners and refusing...

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