There was a glowing in the corner of the room now, a glowing coming from the cot. She approached it, stealthily, looked in. It was a child, so pale, so small, it was not a child at all, curled up upon itself; it had eyes, a mouth, a neck as thick as its trunk, an embryo of no known substance, an arrangement of vapours, of mists, its outline pulsating continually. She wanted to put her hand into the cot and touch it, yet feared it....Its birth is your death......................