She'd slept terribly the night before. The room, the bed, were both comfortable enough, but she'd been plagued with strange dreams, the sort that lingered upon waking but slithered away from memory as she tried to grasp them. Only the tendrils of discomfort remained.
Kate Morton (2010). “The Kate Morton Collection: The House at Riverton and The Forgotten Garden”, p.706, Simon and Schuster
