haunted

Death was the glass; death was between us; coming to the woman first; hundreds of years ago, leaving the house, sealing all the windows; the rooms were darkened. He left it, left her, went North, went East, saw the stars turned in the Southern sky; sought the house; found it dropped beneath the Downs. “Safe, safe, safe”, the pulse of the house beat gladly. “The Treasure yours”.

Virginia Woolf – Monday or Tuesday