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( Read Kindle ) Ð The Boarded Window à A deserted cabin deep in the woods One door, one window The window is boarded up The former resident a recluse is deceased Is there a story here Estate liquidators make a living disposing of the personal effects of deceased persons Typically these are elderly people who may have lived alone, and were considered a bit strange because of their aloofness But as the liquidator goes through the effects of the deceased, they occasionally find a story Letters, pictures, and other artifacts prove that this person was once young, vibrant, sexy, full of hopes dreams, and possibilities, intriguing and mysteriousHere, Ambrose Bierce explores some possibilities of the strange person that lived in the cabin with the boarded up windowPublic Domain PAudio Books by Mike Vendetti Grief is an artist of powers as various as the instruments upon which he plays his dirges for the dead, evoking from some the sharpest, shrillest notes, from others the low, grave chords that throb recurrent like the slow beating of a distant drum Ambrose BierceAn interesting short story by Ambrose Bierce on love and loss As beautiful as these prose are, what makes it exceptional is the haunting quality it is written in. you can never go wrong with Ambrose Bierce He is one of my absolute favorites. 4 5 estrellas.Este me encant , me sorprendi un mont n Despu s de terminar de leerlo tuve que buscar s o s un foto de discusi n e interpretaci n para ese final, perd n Pero bueno, otra joya for what but the magnetism of a blessed memory could have chained that venturesome spirit to a lot like that His heart could not contain it all, nor his imagination rightly conceive it He did not know he was so hard struck that knowledge would come later, and never go Grief is an artist of powers as various as the instruments upon which he plays his dirges for the dead, evoking from some the sharpest, shrillest notes, from others the low, grave chords that throb recurrent like the slow for what but the magnetism of a blessed memory could have chained that venturesome spirit to a lot like that His heart could not contain it all, nor his imagination rightly conceive it He did not know he was so hard struck that knowledge would come later, and never go Grief is an artist of powers as various as the instruments upon which he plays his dirges for the dead, evoking from some the sharpest, shrillest notes, from others the low, grave chords that throb recurrent like the slow beating of a distant drum Some natures it startles some it stupefies To one it comes like the stroke of an arrow, stinging all the sensibilities to a keener life to another as the blow of a bludgeon, which in crushing benumbs