Tiny Dancer
Ballerina...you must have seen her
Few ever dared to go this deep into the darkened forest after the sun had set. Only the most courageous or stupid would hire a coach to take them north of Flinders Peak. But there had been a change in the guard, and while the roads were often only used by farmers that needed to get their crops and herds to market, it would be now that a blackened coach that was pulled by a team of four jet black horse, galloped along the gravel track. Death, which was not uncommon to the down trodden, happened at the Craxton Park. Whispers from the local village had spoken of how the Late Lord's estate had been to a left to a mysterious cousin, who had been out of the country for well over decade. The red satin curtains that lined the windows, hid the face of this newest heir to the Lord's estate.
Would they suffer...the same fate?
And what of the young widow, that had not left Craxton since the funeral? Yet another mystery to be unraveled.
Would they suffer...the same fate?
And what of the young widow, that had not left Craxton since the funeral? Yet another mystery to be unraveled.