The door to the manor swung open on silent oiled hinges as Peter walked up the stone stairs. The granite had been worn down into a gentle curve by hundreds of years of people taking these same steps into the manor. He looked down. “Hmm, maybe another hundred years left in them” he silently considered. His hand drifted across the lichen-spotted banister and he turned to look back at the sweeping grounds with the dual lines of ancient trees drawing the eye towards a far horizon.
"Is it time yet?" he asked himself
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