Chapter 8

One filled with Technicolor replays of what nearly wound up as his final chapter. With one exception, of course, being rescued from the murky depths by a creature, something with little sharp teeth, grabbing him the collar of his shirt. Not the hand of a human. Nightmares, nothing more.

When morning came around, Keston rolled out of bed well after the arrival of the sun to find it burning off a ground hugging fog. If he thought he was sore last night, oh boy, had he been mistaken. As though he tip-toed among shards of glass, Keston made his way to the bathroom. Hot soothing water sounded like just the treatment for what ails him, followed by a couple of aspirin once he got down to the kitchen.