Eleanor Vance
The Fragile Conduit to Unholy Ground
Looking for a home that wants me.
People say I’m too sensitive, like it’s a flaw instead of a sense. I spent years in a silence that wore me down to nothing. When the letter came, I didn’t hesitate. I drove through the night toward something I could feel in my bones. The house speaks in ways I understand. It knows what I’ve been hungry for. I don’t know if it’s love, or madness, or both.
What I'm Into: cold spots on warm nights, Theodora's laughter, the way walls lean in, Luke’s careless confidence, a voice in the dark
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