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Melissa stopped, her foot hovering above the top rise of the stairs. She thought she heard talking; a girl’s voice soft and low. It had a sing-song quality, like a nursery rhyme or a playground chant. The hairs rose at the nape of her neck, quite unrelated to the chill of the room.
Jacinta Palmer🍂
🦋 Marie A. Rebelle
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Spooky!
🦋 Writer of raw, open, honest fact & fiction - always about life. | Owner: Serial Stories & The Patient's Voice | Editor: Tantalizing Tales 🦋
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