Short Story by Katy McAulay
Leonard’s started shaking in his sleep.
Stretched out in bed, arms folded across the flowered coverlet, it begins in the fingers of his right hand. They flutter briefly, like an old dear waving to a good friend on the bus home. The arm flaps, wanting rid of this nonsense. Thumbs twitch, once, twice, and it’s begun – his bed dancing.
The muscles in the forearm get going. They stiffen and relax, stiffen and relax, building a jerky beat that spreads downwards to one idle leg…