For a littlun he was self-confident, holding out his hands, cradling the conch as Ralph did, looking round at them to collect their attention before he spoke.
"Last night I had a dream, a horrid dream, fighting with things. I was outside the shelter by myself, fighting with things, those twisty things in the trees."
He paused, and the other littuns laughed in horrified sympathy. Then I was frightened and I woke up. And I was outside the shelter by myself in the dark and the twisty things had gone away. The vivid horror of this, so possible and so nakedly terrifying,held them all silent. The child's voice went piping on from behind the white conch.
