Читать книгу In the Night Wood - Dale Bailey - Страница 22

Nothing else happened that day.

Except that Charles and Erin slept in separate bedrooms, as they had every night since Lissa died.

Except that, somewhere in the deepest trough of morning, Charles opened his eyes.

He stood by the bed, dreaming of a black combe where a shallow stream hurried over a bed of broken stones and a green moss grew. The window had been flung open and a breeze caressed his bare skin, beckoning him toward the deep purple sky where a horned moon hung like a child’s toy, and the night wood, girdling the great house, whispered green thoughts in its green and leafy shade.