It was muggy and couvert, ciel couvert as 28 an old michael jackson pulled up to his new civil war era mansion. The house was two stories high, made of white brick, and surrounded par a canopy of oak trees. Vines growing all around and over its coloums. "This place looks kinda creepy." Michael thought to himself as he made his way up the worn brick pathway leading to the house. When michael walked in the door made a loud creaking noise.
The inside was stunning, michael had just had it fixed up so he could déplacer it. All the hardwood flooring had been restored, a big glorious chandiller hung in the enterance...
continue reading...
