Chapter 31

This time around the sleep isn't comfortable, neither it is full of nightmares, it is almost as if I had been put in a half comatose state rather than sleeping, somewhat aware of my surroundings and yet unable to react or to really interact with anything, almost as if hearing and seeing through a cup of glass, all sounds and light distorted and muddled before reaching me.

"You are getting better, yes, you will be getting better." I hear the old woman saying, almost singing to herself even, stirring the pot at the back of the small cabin. "At the hands of old Madalene, all is well."

All her actions and words do not seem out of place, sound kind even, and yet there is something unnerving about her, the way she keeps with the smile up at all times, the way the eyes hiding behind the curving smile wrinkles are always attentive, too attentive, to each and every move of mine, not blinking once, and somewhat not reflecting the light as they should.