A phantom in fabric, she fell from the atticand slumped on the stairs. In my sudden dismay,I dove like a devil — a desperate fanatic —and picked up the puppet. I put it away.A shiver then shook me — a shudder of doom.By dusk I was drinking. The darkness grew fastand with it I waited, till warmth left the room.The corridors creaked, and the coldness amasseda whistle of wind. Soon, a whispering came:the vaguest of voices — evasive, a blur,it levelled and lay, then at last gave its name....I fell to the floor. It was fear. It was her.“You left me alone — for too long.” Still, she clings.I hold out my hands, but they’re held back by strings.