The Witching Hour
By: Anne Rice
The doctor woke up afraid. He had been dreaming of the old house inNew Orleansagain. He had seen the woman in the rocker. He’d seen the man with the brown eyes. And even now in this quiet hotel room aboveNew York Cityhe felt the old alarming disorientation. He’d been talking again with the brown-eyed man. Yes, help her. No, this is just a dream. I want to get out of it. The doctor sat up in bed. No sound but the faint roar of the air conditioner. Why was he thinking about it tonight in a hotel room in the Parker Meridien? For a moment he couldn’t shake the feeling of the old house. He saw the woman again -her bent head, her vacant stare. He could almost hear the hum of the insects against the screens of the old porch. And the brown-eyed man was speaking without moving his lips. A waxen dummy infused with life No. Stop it. [download]
Format : Ebook.Pdf
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