Night Terrors

I was just about drifting off to sleep at about half eleven last night, swimming half way between the land of nod and reality when the peaceful dripping from one of the bathroom taps (it's still not quite used to being under full water pressure), was suddenly interrupted by Flyingpops letting out the single most blood curdling scream (absolutely at the top of her voice) that I have *ever*, *EVER* heard...it was the kind of scream that should only really come out of the mouth of someone watching their baby falling into a mincing machine, or their boyfriend being decapitated by grizzly bears...it was absolutely *heart-stopping*...suffice it to say I woke bolt upright (wondering who had been murdered) and span over, to find Flyingpops shaking her head a little, at which point she said "Where am I Fink?"...shaking myself into rationality I just about managed a "You are safe and sound in bed, but I wouldn't be bloody surprised if half the street hasn't just called the police!" at which she rolled over and went straight back to sleep...I think it took me an hour before I was able to relax enough to loosen my fingers from where they had locked around the pillow...

I might have to confiscate that Ken Follett book she is reading, images of torture and throat slitting running around in her subconscious are not congenial with me getting a peaceful night's sleep...