FROM DUNWICH TO INNSMOUTH

She grabbed my hand, pulling me with her to the side of the road, so that we resembled two small, huddled, frightened children, haunted by the mad dance of the wind and the crippled trees. The pale white sun peeked out from behind a bulwark of clouds, but even its presence was no comfort - "e;Don't look at it,"e; Sarah whispered. "e;The sun?"e;"e;The sky. Don't look at it. It's where they come...