| "The Spanish moss swayed eerily in the breeze that brought with it fat rain drops that plopped onto the water, rippling the reflection of the darkening sky. That was when we saw the cabin, far off in a corner on the west bank. It was as I had seen it in my dreams-rustic long-forgotten by the world, save for whatever occupied its malevolent little frame. And whatever it was, was nothing more than a black silhouette in a creaking rocking chair on the tiny porch. As I stared at the phantom… |
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