Chapter Five
Myrtle could tell it was going to be one of those nights where she couldn’t sleep. As soon as she lay down, her mind became fixated on things she needed to do to prepare for the little reception after the funeral. She’d tell herself to relax, take deep breaths, gradually stretch her muscles and feel that she was about to drift off...and some other detail would pop into her head and mess it all up again.
When she finally did fall asleep, her dreams were of that weird, am-I-awake-or-am-I-asleep, quality that played with her head. She kept glancing at her clock, convinced it must almost be morning but saw instead that it was only fifteen or twenty minutes later from the last time she’d checked. Finally, she gave a frustrated bellow, untangled herself from the tangled bed sheets
