The Faded Guest
The house breathed. That was the first thing you noticed, though you had lived in its shadow for forty years. It exhaled a cool, damp air through the eaves, a sigh that smelled of wet slate and forgotten things. You were not supposed to be there. The gate was locked, the iron bars rusted shut against the world, and yet you stood in the garden, your fingers twitching at your sides, waiting for...
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