The Literary Phoenix

Funny, the damage a silly little book can do. Especially in the hands of a silly little girl.

The rolling gardens seemed to reach their thorny branches around the black carriage as the horses slowly pulled them towards the door.  Her companion rolled out first and offered assistance, glancing nervously at his pocket watch for the twenty-third time since they left her house.  She took his sweaty hand and descended.  At best, the …

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