Mr. Linden's Library:

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Her breathing settled as sleep finally took over her. She had been glad it came easy that night; she’d needed it after the day she’d had, but peaceful sleep evaded her again as the nightmares began. They were the same as always, which didn’t make them any less frightening. A lone tear worked it’s way from her clenched eyes as the visions she knew so well assaulted her memories. It landed softly on the pages of the abandoned book on the bed next to her. 

As she slept fitfully, the pages of her discarded book began to rustle. Under the dim lamplight coming from her bedside table, bright green leaves began to quietly unfurl from the centre of the broken spine in the exact spot dampened by the salty tear. Slowly and surely, thin tendrils emerged and spread themselves across the printed words on the yellowing pages. More and more leaves sprouted along the steadily growing branches which were gaining in thickness the closer they were to the book. The tear that started it all, completely forgotten. 

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Her hand jerked as the feathered end of one of the branches trailed across the back of her wrist with a whisper. Goosebumps erupted under its caress as it snaked over her soft, pale skin. She fidgeted in her sleep, snatching her hand away from the disturbance but did not wake. 

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With each of her gentle breaths, the small leaves billowed slightly, but it did nothing to halt the steady progress the young plant was now making over the edge of the bed towards the bare wooden floor. The soft scratching sounds it made as it inched across the floorboards were swallowed by the waves breaking against the harbour walls outside. The branches pulled themselves closer to the open balcony door which overlooked hundreds of moored yachts. The stifling heat was unable to slow the branches which were now over a foot in length. The salt that sat heavy in the air from the water below seemed to feed the hunger driving it to get outside, almost as if it simply had to get to the ocean. 

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It had been mere minutes and already the unknown plant had taken over the room, giving a green hue to the light within. The young woman’s skin was still as pale as ever as she shifted in the bed and began to settle into a deeper sleep as the once tiny tendrils now grew along the walls, covering every inch of the cream wallpaper. 

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A soft gust of sea air ruffled the floor length, muslin curtains which seemed to encourage the branches grow even thicker as they continued on their journey to the open doors. They looped themselves over the curtain rail and silently reached out to the salty air outside. Just as the longest branch had breached the confines of the room, it stopped dead at the muffled sound of footsteps carried through the closed door opposite.  

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Yawning as he entered the hot room, the tall man shed his clothes down to his underwear before smiling down at the sleeping woman. He picked up her book, marked her page and closed it. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he got into bed next to her and switched off the light.