An unredeemable dreariness pervaded my spirit as I beheld the black waters of the tarn. Bordered by Putrefying tree stems and clouded by an unearthly mist I perceived the house. Fungi feasted upon its exterior, matted vines extended like scrawny fingers and fissures cascaded to beneath the morose waters of the tarn. The interior fared little better. Festering plaster crumbled to the touch, embossed paper slithered down decomposing walls, long sash windows perished with the same fervour as the tree stems. I dared not go further for fear of crashing through some larva infested floorboard.
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"Classic"
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