Blink

I started to get up, thinking that if I intervened at that moment, I'd wake up in a cold sweat, and the dream would be over. But the boy grabbed my sleeve, and like a vice grip yanking me back, I stumbled and made a noise.

William's father stopped on the stairs. I could see the back of his mud-covered boots now. If William's momma wasn't mad about muddy boot prints in the house, then what the young boy did must have really pissed her off.

He was wearing jeans, also caked with dry mud. I could smell the manure on him, and I remembered smelling the same thing in the warehouse.

"I hear you breathing, boy. Might as well come out now."

We didn't move, and I could feel William's arm lift to cover his mouth again. My attention was drawn back to peeking between the steps as his father took another step down, and then, it was like I was watching an old familiar cartoon, the man bent in half at such an angle that I didn't think was possible.

The oil lamp swung gently as he held it out, m
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