Sleep, my love

That’s what I’m telling her to get her to relax, holding her hands in mine, but things are really far from OK, with that psychopath Hendrik bound to knock on the door any minute. What to do? Do I know a professional who could take care of him? No. Does she? Maybe. Somebody from the dubious past she’s mentioned a few times. I can tell the sleeping pill’s working, she’s barely able to keep her eyes open. I’ll get everything ready, including the gun. Just in case. Carry her downstairs, to the garage, the car. Open the garage door, gun the car, hit the street. Look in the mirror to see if anyone’s following. It’s a plan, it’s a plan OK. For lack of anything better. There now, she’s asleep. Let’s go!

(To be continued at some point in the future.)

– James Steerforth (© 2022)

Author’s note: As anyone who’s seen the 1948 movie can tell, this is an entirely different story. However, it was obliquely inspired by the film because I came across the poster and set my mind in motion to write a short as a take-off from the title.


About James Steerforth

I am an author of poetry and fiction, translator and painter who loves to have fun with borrowed feathers.
This entry was posted in Cinema, Creative writing, Enigma, Film, Flash fiction, Literature, Love, Movies, Sweet dreams and nightmares, Writing and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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