Randy sat up with a gasp, and both Hannah and Isaac startled. The television coughed out the gruff yet emphatic comments of a yellow, bug-eyed dog, and the sunlight of mid-morning blazed through the window. For a moment, Randy forgot. Then, for the moment following that, he told himself that he could continue to not remember if he just tried hard enough. Then he saw the frozen handprints on his window and reality blew the concept to hell and back.
He looked at the kids, but he couldn’t keep his gaze on them. He glanced at the television, but it couldn’t hold him either. Nor the clock, the wall, or the cover of the novel on his coffee table. Time and time again, without him seeming to be in control of it, his eyes were drawn back to the window, and the moment he locked onto those horrible
