In the middle of the fields, an old, ruined mill stands, a constant reminder of what was, and how the horrors that now wander the meadows day and night keep the villagers from tending to the leas. There is a fireplace at the foot of the ominous building and climbing the rickety path of boards and barrels, one can reach the very top of the mill. The vista of the fields in all their glory is alone worth it. However, the midday bride haunts the place, too, for that is where she fell to her death.
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