And I shall never forget the anguish and loathing on her face when she realised what she had become. You would have left me, and I would never have known why? Exactly so. The images rained onto her mind like hot coals until she tore herself up and out of sleep like an arrow from a wound. A sense of horror and pity settled in his chest, clawing at him as if he were human.
I thought I was alone, then there were three figures around the bed. She could see the way its joints articulated, the marvellous subtle hues of its body, hear the scraping of its tiny feet on the fibres. She was staring at windows and furniture and the brown oak-panelled walls of her room. Less so in this sceptical century, I know, but it still happens.
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