There is nothing between the beds, nothing.
Of a sudden I see a globular mass with a moon-like face oscillating in the night.

With hands held out and groping for the rails of the bedsteads, it is seeking its way.

The orb of its belly distends and stretches its shirt like a crinoline, and shortens it.

The mass is carried by two little and extremely slender legs, knobbly at the knees, and the color of string.

It reaches the next bed, the one which a single ditch separates from mine.