Content
“I took a log from the basket and placed it on the coals: the fire flickered into life. On the walls shadows danced. I sipped my whisky, listening to the howls of the wind as it barreled down the dale from the west, tearing through the trees and rattling the old sash windows. It was a night to be inside. The room was warm, and I grew drowsy , and soon I was nodding in and out of a dream …”