The pale-faced woman brushed it away listlessly. Nightmares became spikes designed to tear into her paper-thin flesh. Memories, ancient and new, melded into a macabre dream book. The ink crimson, the text reprehensible, it told part of a perverse tale. * * * * Soft, chubby fingers clutched at the rotting counterpane. The little pixie-faced girl climbed onto the enormous bed, one that had witnessed her conception, birth, and now life. Careful not to touch the lush hills and valley hiding beneath velvet and down, she gazed at the exquisite summit. "So pretty." The innocent words disturbed the motes swirling about like dispossessed souls. "So very pretty." Rapturous euphoria made the child’s mind buzz. Falling into temptation, she reached out to touch a softly rounded breast. She immediately snatched her hand away with a whimper. She scooted back, nearly to the edge. Stuffing raw fingers into her mouth, the little girl suckled them much as she wished she could her mother’s breast.
