Samuel’s words echoed in Casey’s head that night as she tossed and turned, unable to sleep. The phrase “believing in something beyond what we can see and hear” rang alongside the images of her parent’s deaths, rapidly swapping still pictures as if a slideshow was playing in her mind. Casey kept sitting up and checking on Erri to make sure he was still breathing.
This is nuts, she told herself after the clock had chimed three. Why am I allowing that stuck-up historian to bring all this stuff back?
She slid out of bed, pulled on her dressing-gown and opened up her laptop, intending to do some homework to distract her, but almost dropped it as something moved in the corner of the room.
Casey slapped the light on, and for the split second before it reached full brightness she thought she saw a figure vanish into the wall. But there was nobody there.
Her heart racing, Casey turned the main light back off so as not to disturb her brother, and instead turned on the lamp. She was just over-reacting, she would just get on with her work till daylight and then do the day as normal. But searching the web for information on Salvador Dali was not as distracting as she had hoped. In every image she saw a shadow, in every sentence she read the past.
No comments:
Post a Comment