The Old Man and the Glass of the House

The full moon had turned into a lopsided creature, but there was still moonlight enough to fill the room with a haunted light. I fell asleep thinking miserably of wise cheerful conviction that the old man was loose in the picture. The moonlight was still there when I woke up. And so was the old woman. She was hanging on the inside of the glass of the picture, gibbering out at me and she looked twenty feet high standing in front of that picture of the house. Then, suddenly, she moved aside and I could see the road leading down from the house and while I watched, why came through the gates running and waving desperately at me.