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[fingersmith]

Got suckered into cleaning out the Closet of No Return for my mother yesterday. Barely made it out alive. I have an inexplicable fear of both spiders and dust-bunnies, so it’s a miracle I didn’t drop dead of a heart attack. Actually, a ventriloquist dummy very nearly did me in. That’s just not something you want to shine a flashlight on when you’re

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[glitterglass]

found you through a friend of a friend, and found this: Startling and Romantic Story form the Old North State

[fingersmith]

Sorry for taking so long to respond. I always seem to forget that I have a LiveJournal, so I don’t check it as often as I should…

Thanks for passing the info along. It’s a relief to finally know that her stiffened fingers were clutching a tuft of hair. It really was driving me a little crazy. (Or possibly crazier.) I guess it’s a little morbid, but the whole story fascinates me. So much for the idyllic “times were simpler back then…”

I really can’t thank you enough for filling me in. Although now I have a whole new set of questions. Mysterious accomplices, vanishing assailants… it just gets better and better, doesn’t it?