The floor boards beneath Graham's feet began to buckle, the walls to
shimmer and even worse. His bottle of cold respite dropped and
shattered. Spirits charged each other in a maelstrom of muted colors,
and their shrieks reached a feverish pitch. Graham followed the tabby
and ran like hell. Outside in the misery of white-out conditions he
watched as his house was consumed in ghostly apocalypse. Clara, his
beloved Clara appeared beside him. "Graham" her voice sounding thin,
distant, "remember our last night together?"