
You are Graham, hollowed out by six sleepless nights of overwork, walking the cliffs above Boscastle when a young artist named Isbister blocks your path to the caves. He talks instead of leaving, drawing out the drugs, the stimulants, the cliff edge you were measuring, and walks you back to his lodging for cold mutton and an open window. There, a heaviness falls that is not sleep — and by lamplight, Isbister watches you go terribly still.
Read When the Sleeper Wakes