Girls Running From Houses

The house gathers souls. The cavernous bathroom travels slowly.

By necessity, the girl is loved by the sun. By inclination, the lord of the manor is bait and trap and prey. Together, they must only solve the tragedy of the house.

Under the rotting linoleum, she finds a secret room.

It's all happening as it ever has, in answer to the pattern of generations. One girl outwits the house and flees; another arrives on a wild and windy day, seeking a faithless lover.

She arrives at the house hoping to find the doctor, who promised her something she needs, and who proves to be playing a long game.

The maid. The Countess. The groundskeeper. They know no world but the house.

Intrepid reader, even as you brush aside these gloomy words, you find yourself awaking, ever more often, from a nightmare of a grand estate that hates.

Mortality devours on the ceiling of the music room.

In the mirror in the upper gallery, she sees fireproof substances.

Shifting shadows. Hollow laughter. Brass instruments. And a girl backed by firelight, in horror.

Relentlessness.

Her shade has fled the house in vain.

When she is no longer young, in summer, the girl will dream of the stranger who arrives by starlight, who was her long-lost relative.

The house rotates incrementally. The library hides its occupants from the sun.

The house is threatened with conversion into a museum. The girl will only slow its preservation.

The house is alleged to stand beyond a distant city. It is haunted by newts. The girl arrives at midnight.

The house is surrounded on three sides by the sea.

Projected on the cheaply-glazed windows in the anteroom, the girl glimpses the foundations of the house before this house.

If they could make a girl out of wattle and daub, she would be indistinguishable.

The house (from which fumes waft) is laid out in accordance with esoteric mathematics.

The house is an unknown quantity, and the oldest ghost is the girl's reluctant ally, and the girl is here in good faith.

In the bookshelves in the airing room, she finds a slim pamphlet. It contains an account of the fate of the original owner of the house.

She soon learns that the house has been afflicted by grave goods.

The heir is her long-lost relative, but the investigator is her secret supporter.

In the cheval glass in the airing room, she sees an aviary.

The girl, like the footman, reaches the end of her tether.

The house was in ages past a crime scene, yet never will be again.

The girl flickers.

Through the narrow windows in the room from which she has been barred, the girl tries to convince others to see inexplicable patterns in the gravel drive.

The house is surrounded on four sides by marshland.