Not a Creature Was Stirring
“When it began striking, Cordelia Day Hannaford began counting the notes. It was easier to do that than to get up and look at the bedside clock, or even lift her arm and look at the watch on her wrist. She had tried to do both those things when Emma left the room. She had succeeded with the watch, but the effort had left her nauseated and mentally fogged. And it had taken a very long time. She had no idea how many minutes it had been from the moment Emma left to get the tea tray to the moment sh...e had got her wrist up high enough, and her mind cleared long enough, to see that it was 10:36.
It was now eleven o’clock. She had been at rest for twenty-four minutes, more time than she needed to make the sick feeling go away. As always when she felt well these days, her mind seemed to be detached from her body, floating and free, in her skull but not of it. She had felt much the same way on those mornings, long ago, when she had woken after a night of too many champagne cocktails. Champagne cocktails.MoreLess
It was now eleven o’clock. She had been at rest for twenty-four minutes, more time than she needed to make the sick feeling go away. As always when she felt well these days, her mind seemed to be detached from her body, floating and free, in her skull but not of it. She had felt much the same way on those mornings, long ago, when she had woken after a night of too many champagne cocktails. Champagne cocktails.MoreLess
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