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Echoes in the Pines at Midnight

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The moon hung pale in the sky, casting long shadows across the graveyard. A piercing breeze rustled the pines, their branches creaking like old men. An unsettling silence hung in the air, broken only by the occasional https://deborahugri534177.idblogmaker.com/36406844/whispers-in-the-pines-at-midnight

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