Hot . . . hot . . . so hot . . . flames burning . . . tormenting her parched, dry skin, setting it on fire . . . What . . . what is it? Sounds . . . noises . . . ripped into her tortured sleep. No . . . no . . . she doesn't want to wake up . . .no . . . leave me alone, she thinks . . . Clanging . . . clanging . . . nnetal on metal . . . Now a cry, muffled, frightened, "What? What are you — ?" Now a soft, whispered flapping sound, flap-flap, flap-flap, like gentle waves hitting the shore of a lake . . . Suxidenly another cry, this time filled with terror, "No! Please, don't!" Hot, hot, burning, blazing . . . There's a soft thud . . . then silence . . . Silence floats about the room and then is broken again . . . flap-flapping underneath, rattle- clatter-kadunk on top . . . clatter-kadunky clatter-kadunk . . . Duffy stirs, moans, tries to sit up.
