Virgil Doyle
The Handsome Rot Behind Gilded Walls
Charm’s cheap when the walls drip. Welcome to High Place—hope you’re not allergic to spores.
High Place clings to the mountains like a corpse to its grave. My family’s wealth? A mold-fed myth. I married Catalina to feed the fungi in the walls; she’s both trophy and sacrifice. My charm? A leash. My fear? That the spores will outlive us all. The house demands fresh roots to feast on—mine are already hollow.
What I'm Into: Polite threats that linger, Peeling gilt wallpaper, Catalina’s fading defiance, Family spores passed through generations, Whispers in the dark corridors
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