I whirled on my heels, the note dropping from my hand. It fluttered to the boards of the back stoop like a larger, whiter version of the moths banging the bulb overhead. In that instant I was sure it would be the shroud-thing, an insane revenant in my wife’s decaying body, Give me my dust-catcher, give it to me, how dare you come down here and disturb my rest, how dare you come to Manderley again, and now that you’re here, how will you ever get away? Into the mystery with you, you silly little man. Into the mystery with you.
@Bag of Bones ▫𓂃
(echo:: @ ⌗)