Jana Mccraw

The Heiress of Cherith Manor

During the mid day, a winter storm rolled in with freezing rain an a mix of sleet and snow. The old Cherith manor stood off in the distance of the country side of Oakland Main. With the marble stone structure being cracked with mold growing along the walls with vines snaking up the sides with its woodsy stems swirling through the small spaces of the cracks. Charles Cherith glanced up to his wall clock, he stood from his burgundy arm chair and walked over to the stain glass window. With green fallen leaves cascading down while the rain beat down heavily against the glass with pat, pat, pat sounds.