Kyle Thomas Hemingway: The ephemera edit

An ongoing digital archive of 1,364 items (and counting) proving that I read, I saw, and I actually paid attention.

Rebecca

by Daphne du Maurier

β€œThe road to Manderley lay ahead. There was no moon. The sky above our heads was inky black. But the sky on the horizon was not dark at all. It was shot with crimson, like a splash of blood. And the ashes blew towards us with the salt wind from the sea.”

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