A Rendezvous in Haiti
“In a stupor too: this was an unusually vivid nightmare, her limbs heavy, immobile, no escape. Aches and pains—her elbows, her hips, the back of her head—roused her further, and were replaced by nausea and then fear—a bolt of pure painful terror, like a thunderclap that stops the breath and freezes the heart.
She fumbled and groped: she was swathed in perhaps a sheet, and she was clothed in her own proper night-gown, and the soft parts of her body were warm and comfortable. She smelled horse; she tasted medicine. “I should scream,” she said aloud. But of course it was a dream, it must be: the sharp suffocating fear, and soon the surge of relief that left one limp. Yet she lay on a pallet that crackled softly, and she breathed in odors of the stable, and heard a musical Creole voice—and the cart creaked and groaned, and a beast staled, with a hissing spatter.
She was journeying through the night in a wagon. A gray sky, black boughs above: perhaps dawn, or a clouded moon.
She was too sle...epy to scream.MoreLess
She fumbled and groped: she was swathed in perhaps a sheet, and she was clothed in her own proper night-gown, and the soft parts of her body were warm and comfortable. She smelled horse; she tasted medicine. “I should scream,” she said aloud. But of course it was a dream, it must be: the sharp suffocating fear, and soon the surge of relief that left one limp. Yet she lay on a pallet that crackled softly, and she breathed in odors of the stable, and heard a musical Creole voice—and the cart creaked and groaned, and a beast staled, with a hissing spatter.
She was journeying through the night in a wagon. A gray sky, black boughs above: perhaps dawn, or a clouded moon.
She was too sle...epy to scream.MoreLess
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