She slid her legs free from the bed and poked her feet into slippers.Īfter heading the stairs, Edna passed through a couple of rooms off the hall. Women her age suffered family nightmares, not of creatures that reached through the darkness. She yawned and stretched, heart-stopping fear sinking to foolishness. The dream ebbed away: the memory of the creeping terror slipping from her mind. On each, Alan’s precise handwriting had labelled the contents in thick black pen. In the corner stood cardboard boxes stacked three high in a pyramid. The gentle light of dawn slipped under the curtains, scattering the shadow of a chair across the wall at an odd angle. She sat upright, fragile chest pumping beneath her nightshirt.īeside her, the bed lay empty the sheets folded and straight. A study in making the everyday truly creepy, Daniel I Russell makes sure we won’t be hurrying back to the garden any time soon… SYĮdna snapped from the dream, her bony fingers gripping the bed sheets. But their dream turns nightmare when they can’t escape the insidious tree that covers the facade. Edna and Alan take on the challenge of a new home in their twilight years, buying a charming cottage in the country.
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