A haunted house

Transcript

Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
a haunted house. A short story where Virginia called whatever, however you walk. There was a door shutting from room to room. They went hand in hand lifting here, opening there, making sure a costly couple here we left it, she said. And he added all but her tool. It's upstairs, she murmured. And in the garden he whispered quietly. They said. Or we shall make them. But it was not that you jokers. Oh, no! They are looking for it. They are drawing the curtain, one might say, and so read on a page or two now they have found it, one would be certain, shopping the pencil on the margin, and then tired of reading, one might rise and see for oneself the house all empty. The door standing open, only the wood pigeons burbling with content and the hum of the freshening machine sounding from the form. What did I come in? I come in here for What did I want to find my hands for? Empty. Perhaps it's upstairs. Then. The apples were in the loaf and so down again the garden still as every, only the book had slipped into the grass. But they had a phone it in the drawing room now, or that one could ever see them. The window panes reflected apples, reflected roses. All the leaves were green in the glass If they moved in the drawing room. The apple only turned its elo side at the moment after, if the door was opened, spread aboard the floor hung upon the walls, pendant from the ceiling ceiling. What? My hands were empty. The shadow of a thrush crosses the carpet from the deepest wells of silence, the wood pigeon, to its bubble of sound. Safe. Safe safe. The pulse of the house beat softly that reserve buried the room. The pearls stopper short oo! Was the buried treasure.