My free hand reached up and pulled him in. My knife hand struck at his heart. Thankfully, I wake up right away, and I don’t run on autopilot for lon.... Any longer waking up and he would have been dead. As it was, I almost didn’t stop the knife in time. I had punctured his shirt and pricked his skin with the tip of the blade. His chest leaked a drop of blood when I pulled the knife back. When he took his shirt off to see the wound, it looked like a needle mark.From the years living in. Each walk took about half and hour and she tried to vary it each time. This time because of the overcast sky she decided on the shorter walk, it would take her past a couple of lovely gardens, one in particular she admired and had briefly spoken to the gardener a Mr Niger, he was an African and originated from the Sudan. He was a pleasant man and although the conversations were brief she had enjoyed them, especially for his knowledge of his garden and this day she just hoped he would be there. More

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