They had moved
nearer.
Creeping with silent feet over the shifting sands, drawing imperceptibly
nearer by soft, unhurried movements, the willows had come closer during the
night. But had the wind moved them, or had they moved of themselves? I
recalled the sound of infinite small patterings and the pressure upon the
tent and upon my own heart that caused me to wake in terror. I swayed for a
moment in the wind like a tree, finding it hard to keep my upright position
on the sandy hillock. There was a suggestion here of personal agency, of
deliberate intention, of aggressive hostility, and it terrified me into a
sort of rigidity.
Then the reaction followed quickly. The idea was so bizarre, so absurd,
that I felt inclined to laugh. But the laughter came no more readily than
the cry, for the knowledge that my mind was so receptive to such dangerous
imaginings brought the additional terror that it was through our minds and
not through our physical bodies that the attack would come, and was coming.
The wind buffeted me about, and, very quickly it seemed, the sun came up
over the horizon, for it was after four o'clock, and I must have stood on
that little pinnacle of sand longer than I knew, afraid to come down to
close quarters with the willows. I returned quietly, creepily, to the tent,
first taking another exhaustive look round and--yes, I confess it--making a
few measurements. I paced out on the warm sand the distances between the
willows and the tent, making a note of the shortest distance particularly.
Pages:
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44