Winter in Horsingdon brings with it a raw, killing cold. Family, friends and neighbours always do what they can to ensure the safety of the elderly and infirm - those who, these days, are seen as marginal and unproductive - whilst the wealthy enjoy the warmth and comfort of their homes in indolent disregard at the suffering around them.
Yet it is Horsingdon’s monied classes who always seem to suffer the worst of the season’s biting chill, as spirits of the frozen dead rise from the land to pass sentence upon those who, through their indifference and lack of largesse, have failed to learn the lessons of their callous ancestors.
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