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The world seems so much bigger up here than in London. Or perhaps I am smaller. I find peace in the quiet stillness and the remoteness of it all.
“I didn’t think I was still your first reader?” I said, my turn to sound petulant. “Of course. Your opinion has always mattered most. Who do you think I’m secretly writing all these stories for?” I tried very hard not to cry. “Me?” “Almost always.”
A haunted marriage is just as terrifying as a haunted house.
