Posthaste

Not far from here I had escaped the witches cauldron as a child. This time I am on the balcony of the old two story house as the day grows dark with cloud. I look outside to realize that I am not parked in a safe place, but as I ponder a better parking spot it gets too dark to go out. Bandits and murders are now lurking just beyond the edge of the light cast by the old house. Someone familiar is here and the mailman brings her a letter, but he hands it to me…

Posthaste

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