Mayhem
“November, 1886James Harrington’s DiaryI am not myself. The illness that plagued me in Poland lingers, and I am exhausted from lack of sleep. I have barely rested since the morning I awoke, two days after our flight from the village, and found Josep dead. Since then my journey has been swift and constant, as if I could somehow run from the memory. And maybe I have managed it, in part at least, for the immediate horror I felt on seeing him like that beside me in the cart – with no mark of malice ...on his body but his eyes wide and mouth stretched open in a silent scream of terror – has faded. I still think of the dream I had that night, however, and I cannot help but shiver, especially now.I dreamed I was leaning over him while he slept – it was so vivid; even now I can see the images as clearly as ever. His mouth was hanging slack and he was snoring, lost in a deep sleep. I could hear animals rustling through the leaves as they hunted in the dark. There was a slight prickle on my skin from the cool air.MoreLess
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