I wake with a start. I've thrown off the coverlet, and am shivering with cold. The sheet is wound about my leg. I kick it free, pull the bedding up to my chin and rest back on my bolster. But I cannot dispel the dream so easily. I did not close the shutters and the moonlight spills across the floor.
Then I hear a footstep on the boards.
My heart spikes. It comes again - one step, then another, at the foot of my bed.
I stare motionless into the darkness, but see nothing. Am I still dreaming?
Then a run of steps, away towards the casement, quick and light; the footfall of a child. I cannot separate my waking senses from my dream world. Fear stifles my breath. Pressure builds in my lungs as they crave air. My body prickles all over and yet I dare not move.