A Ghost Story, Part I
May 10th 2008 I arrive in Vicksburg, perched high above the Mississippi river, about 2 hours to sunset, and make my way through the main street and down a steep enbankment towards the river to the bed and breakfast I’m stay at tonight. It is surrounded by lovely gardens and feels old and staid. The front gallery porch among the columns looks out onto the might river in the distance, the sun glinting off
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