It was a dreadful night. The blanket over him was not thick enough to keep the cold from seeping in and the small brazier next to his sleeping mattres... on the floor was too weak to keep anything warm. There wasn’t heat, only a small comfort in the dim red glow coming from the few, almost burned out coals, overshadowed every now and then by the bright lightning in the skiesHe was counting his heartbeats to keep his attention away from the roaring thunder and to occupy his thoughts with something. She always ate only the toast and coffee and left everything else on the plate. The eggs were usually pushed around into some sort of design. Some days she would incorporate the bacon into the artwork. Cara and Amber had many theories as to why Ms. Gallaway did what she did, most of which derived from their acute passion for horror films. “So, what the heck do think is up with these dreams I keep having?” Cara asked Amber as she wiped down the counter.“Maybe it’s just your subconscious telling. More

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