Now the lions were done feeding. They moved to the water hole to drink. A shadow moved over

Mr. Hadley looked at his wife and they turned and looked back at the beasts edging slowly forward, knees bent, tails in the air. Mr. and Mrs. Hadley screamed. And suddenly they realized why those other screams had sounded familiar.

Mr. and Mrs. George Hadley beat at the door. “Now, don’t be silly, children. It’s time to go. Mr.

The house was full of dead bodies, it seemed. It felt like a mechanical cemetery. So silent.

“The lions look real, don’t they?” said George Hadley. I don’t suppose there’s any way…”

the room has become a means of creating destructive thoughts, instead of helping to make them go away.”

There was a terrible screaming from the nursery.

“Can’t say I did; the usual violences, a tendency toward a slight paranoia here or there. But this is usual in children because they feel their parents are always doing things to make them suffer in one way or another. But, oh, really nothing.”

It was wet from being in the lion’s mouth, there were tooth marks on it, and there was dried blood on both sides

There was a green, lovely forest, a lovely river, a purple mountain, high voices singing. And there was Rima the bird girl, lovely and mysterious. She was hiding in the trees with colorful butterflies, like flowers coming to life, flying about her long hair. The African veldt was gone.

He unlocked the door and opened it. Just before he stepped inside, he heard a faraway scream. And then another roar from the lions, which died down quickly.

The children thought lions, and there were lions. The children thought zebras, and there were zebras. Sun – sun. Giraffes – giraffes. Death and death.

“Sorry,” said a small voice within the table, and tomato sauce appeared.

“Those lions can’t get out of there, can they?”

“That’s just it. I feel like I don’t belong here. The house is wife and mother now, and nurse for the children.

Outside in the hall, after they had closed the door quickly and noisily behind them, he was laughing and she was crying

The yellow of the lions and the summer grass was in your eyes like a picture in an expensive French wall hanging.

Well, here it was!

They’ve just been eating,” said Lydia. “I don’t know what.”

The hot straw smell of lion grass, the cool green smell of the hidden water hole, the strong dried blood smell of the animals, the smell of dust like red pepper

The room was silent and empty. The walls were white and two dimensional

Their approach was sensed by a hidden switch and the nursery light

What would a psychologist want with a nursery?