Martha

Martha Martha… somebody was calling her name from the bedroom window. She turned from her reading and sat erect and alert, staring through the glass at the darkness beyond. She could only make out the shapes of swaying branches. Martha knew she had imagined whatever it was she’d heard but the feeling of being arrested by her surrounding had transfixed her. Her heart was beating wildly. It occurred to her that she wanted to be frightened. She was eager for some new and unusual experience which did not preclude the supernatural. Her desire to laugh at the idea of a ghost was so strong the spell was broken. She lay back in bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. After a while she reach for the cord to the lamp and plunged the room into darkness.