The Road to Paris (2008)
“When all the children were in bed, Mrs. Lincoln made the rounds, stopping in each room to say good night, switch off the lights, and close the door.
Paris was snuggled under the covers when Mrs. Lincoln suddenly filled the doorway of her tiny alcove.
“Good night, Paris,” she said, hitting the wall switch and closing the door in one deft motion, leaving Paris to drown in a sea of darkness. The moon was no friend. The sliver of light that found its way through the window hardly made a dent in the... darkness. Paris clung to her bedspread, her heart galloping inside her chest.
Just close your eyes, Paris told herself, like Malcolm had told her to do a thousand times. Paris pulled down the shades of her eyes and pretended all the darkness was behind her lids, that the room beyond them was really streaming with light. This trick worked for a while, and her heartbeat slowed a bit. Then she could swear she felt rough wool scrape her cheek. She flailed out, hitting nothing but air.
Ouch! Paris felt something sharp digging into the flesh behind her knees, but the sharpest things in the bed were her own fingernails.MoreLess
Paris was snuggled under the covers when Mrs. Lincoln suddenly filled the doorway of her tiny alcove.
“Good night, Paris,” she said, hitting the wall switch and closing the door in one deft motion, leaving Paris to drown in a sea of darkness. The moon was no friend. The sliver of light that found its way through the window hardly made a dent in the... darkness. Paris clung to her bedspread, her heart galloping inside her chest.
Just close your eyes, Paris told herself, like Malcolm had told her to do a thousand times. Paris pulled down the shades of her eyes and pretended all the darkness was behind her lids, that the room beyond them was really streaming with light. This trick worked for a while, and her heartbeat slowed a bit. Then she could swear she felt rough wool scrape her cheek. She flailed out, hitting nothing but air.
Ouch! Paris felt something sharp digging into the flesh behind her knees, but the sharpest things in the bed were her own fingernails.MoreLess
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