14
When I sneaked back into bed with Sandra, she didn’t stir. As usual, I put my head on the pillow and tried to relax. But as soon as I shut my eyes, my head was filled with ghastly images. I did my best to ignore them and after an hour or two fell into a fitful sleep.
In the one and only dream I had that night, I was talking to Brian at my parents’ house. We were all sitting in the front room enjoying a mug of tea. My brother was holding forth about his short stories. He fancied himself as a brilliant polymath who was better than me at everything – particularly writing – and he never let me forget it.
It was a normal family scene, or it would have been, were it not for the fact that one of Brian’s eyes dangled out of its socket. It rolled around his face and stared at me every time he
