In fact, the middle-aged man had heard the conversation outside between the young woman and the old one. This sent waves of terror crashing through him, nearly drowning him and leaving him breathless on the spot.
He couldn't forget the endless string of nightmares that began after he'd hired someone to clean the apartment and listed it for sale.
In his dreams, his father would chase him, constantly crying out in hunger. His body was like an inflatable doll, leaking air as he walked until he shriveled into a sheet of mulberry paper that stuck to the man's back. He'd say, "I miss you, son. Since you won't come to see me, just come with me." Then, he'd reach out with a withered hand, gnawed clean of its flesh.
He would turn and run for his life, but the voice was always right there, a cold breath at the nape of his neck, repeating its message. No matter how desperately he struggled, he could never shake it off.
