Time is the sentence of all physical things to the musing of all celestial things. You expect to hear unknown bumps in the night upon moving into a new home. John did not expect those bumps to leave behind glasses of wine. Though the wine was the first mystery he encountered upon moving into that house, it was not the last. John had become the perfect candidate for an evil plot, a plot entrusted to the likeness of a six-year-old girl, and the four-hundred-pound winged counterpart she called Jeb. With a little help from the being called Mother, they will see John thrown into helplessness as their plot plays out across the hardwood surfaces of his new home. Can John grasp on to the plot before he suffers the greatest loss any man can suffer, or will his faith deny him the ability to do so?
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