Le Baiser de la Mort The Kiss of Death Short cut clopping echoed byout the desolate ally ways that wound through the pertinacious outer limits of Bordeaux, France. An eerie stillness hung in the air, and at the said(prenominal) time, an unsettling anticipation. The lanky coachman lashed out at his team of horses, who already pushed on in an uneasy canter. Rain drizzled lazily from a depressed sky; a grave contrast to the phantasmagoric disquietude that consumed the inhabitants of the city. Signs of the great black plague had been sighted in a small village along the Garonne River. So cockeyed to Bordeaux.

unconditional brick walls and dank ally ways flash ed by, swirling to jack offher into a wintry gray nothingness, as glimpsed from inside the jerking stagecoach. pulling her satin polish off closer about her shoulders, the Duchess of Bordeaux shivered, trying to rid herself of the inauspicious sensation that had settled thickly around her, as a wakeless fog that enmeshes itself upon a boggy landscape. The coach came to an a...If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website:
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