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Scarlet sat in her bathroom, wrapped in towels and slowly feeling the warmth come back into her limbs. She tried to organise her thoughts, grasping he... skull, grinding her teeth. But her normally so precise mind was cluttered and confused. For a fair time she simply rested, considering what had happened while she had writhed in the madness of the rain. The bathroom was tiled all around, soft yellow-white light bathing the form of the restless equine as she sat in thought, hooves occasionally. He found a withered hand and pulled up his mother, who skittered to her feet while pulling herself with her son’s arm. He saw a gash on the side of her head that bled down her cheek. ‘Mother…’ he said in relief. He set her down on the chair, wetted a towel in the sink and began dabbing the old woman’s head. As he mopped the blood from her his mother blinked slowly, as if she was trying to recall something important. She finally croaked out, ‘It is time you left, John.’ He knew exactly what she. More

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