John Constable Hadleigh CastleJohn Constable Flatford MillJohn William Waterhouse The Magic Circle
someone who can’t bring themselves to believe the evidence of their own eyes.’Perhaps he’s just been very ‘I should think he’s just about been as ill as he can be ever.’
Bill Door walked They were followed by a . . . shape.
It was about six inches high. It wore a black robe. It held a small scythe in one skeletal paw. A bone-white nose with brittle grey whiskers protruded from the shadowy hood.
Bill Door reached out and picked it up. It didn’t resist, but stood on the palm back home thoughtfully.There was a light on in the farmhouse kitchen, but he went straight to the barn, climbed the ladder to the hay-loft, and lay down. He could put off dreaming, but he couldn’t escape remembering.He stared at the darkness.After a while he was aware of the pattering of feet. He turned. A stream of pale rat-shaped ghosts skipped along the roof beam above his head, fading as they ran so that soon there was nothing but the sound of the scampering.
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