FEAR IN THE NIGHT Robert Sheckley She heard herself screaming as she woke up and knew she must have been screaming for long seconds. It was cold in the room but she was covered with perspiration; it rolled down her face and shoulders, down the front of her nightgown. Her back was damp with sweat and the sheet beneath her was damp.
Immediately she began to shiver.
“Are you all right?” her husband asked.
For a few moments she couldn’t answer. Her knees were drawn up and she coiled her arms tightly around them, trying to stop shuddering. Her husband was a dark mass beside her, a long dark cylinder against the faintly glimmering sheet. Looking at him, she began trembling again.
“Will it help if I snap on the light?” he asked.
“No!” she said sharply. “Don’t move—please!”
And then there was only the steady ticking of the clock, but somehow that was filled with menace also.
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