Okay, not hard to figure out where that imagery came from, she thought. She sat up quickly. Moonlight and the sparkling lights of the city spilled through the uncovered window, illuminating the bedroom. She pushed aside the bedding, intending to go out into the living room and walk off some of the dark energy of the nightmare. She took two steps toward the closed door of her bedroom before she remembered her houseguest. She stopped, listening intently. There was no sound from the living room. Max was most likely asleep. He needed his rest. The last thing she wanted to do was wake him. On the other hand, the bedroom was too small for her purposes. She needed to move. She certainly wasn’t going to be able to go back to sleep for a while. She regarded the door with a deep sense of dread. In the shadows of the bedroom it seemed to have been transformed into a solid wall—the one thing that was keeping her from escaping to the freedom of the living room.
What do You think about When All The Girls Have Gone?
