ound from
the lawn and the topiary the lions gathered protectively around the path； the
rabbit bent over as if to crop grass； the buffalo ready to charge； the crouching
dog。 Beyond them； the putting green and the hotel itself。 From here he could
even see the raised lip of the roque court on the Overlook's western side。
Everything was just as it had been。 So why had the flesh of his face and hands
begun to creep； and why had the hair along the back of his neck begun to stand
up； as if the flesh back there had suddenly tightened？
He squinted up at the hotel again； but that was no answer。 It simply stood
there； its windows dark； a tiny thread of smoke curling from the chimney； ing
from the banked fire in the lobby。
（Buster； you better get going or they're going to e back and wonder if you
were doing anything all the while。）
Sure； get going。 Because the snow was ing and he had to get the damn hedges
trimmed。 It was part of the agreement。 Besides； they wouldn't dare
（Who wouldn't？ What wouldn't？ Dare do what？）
He began to walk back toward the hedge…clipper at the foot of the big kids'
slide； and the sound of his feet crunching on the crushed stone seemed
abnormally loud。 Now the flesh on his testicles had begun to creep too； and his
buttocks felt hard and heavy； like stone。
（Jesus； what is this？）
He stopped by the hedge…clipper； but made no move to pick it up。 Yes； there
was something different。 In the topiary。 And it was so simple； so easy to see；
that he just wasn't picking it up。 e on； he scolded himself； you just trimmed
the fucking rabbit； so what's the
（that's it）
His breath stopped in hi