No one believes me when I tell them what I see from my window on some nights.

     Its only to be expected, afterall i’m just a kid. The spaces between my ears are full of tall tales, Mother often says, and its a wonder my head remains small, pretty and round. Big Brother agrees with her, but that is also to be expected; he enjoys making fun of me.

     Father listens to me, though. He nods seriously and stares into my eyes as I tell him my stories but I know he doesn’t believe me, because he always offers me ice-cream when i’m done. Father believes ice-cream calms a feverish imagination. He told me this when I was 4, and three years after, I remember, but he does not. I like ice-cream, so I always accept his kind offer. But i’m sticking to my story.

Maybe i’m special. Big Brother says that means I may have to see a doctor. A special one for special people, who shrinks heads. I wasn’t scared because I know he’s only joking. He loves me. When no one is looking, he holds my hand as we walk to school. Hmm. I wonder if the special doctor shrinks people’s heads so tall tales become the boring short ones my parents like to read.

      I prefer my stories. They are true, but mother insists I only have fantastic dreams. Sometimes I agree I do, because Father then offers me ice-cream.

     The problem is that I don’t see these things too often. No matter how many nights I stay up afterwards, sometimes, I don’t see them for a long time. So if, for instance, I got Father to stay up with me one night, he would probably see nothing, and offer me ice-cream after a while. To be honest, I would probably eat it…but with a frown.

     Listen to me carefully. Ice-cream should ALWAYS be eaten with a smile and maybe, a shiver. Frowns and ice-cream may make you sick. My cold, blue friends told me this.

     So, I guess you see my problem. I cannot ask Father to wait up and see….hmm. Its hard to explain what I see. I’m only a 7 year old girl with a limited vo… voba… vocabulary. My teacher says i’m ahead of my peers though. Whatever that means.

      On those special nights, I always wake up in I and my brother’s room because of a funny light from outside the window. I’m a big girl now and so, do not need to use a nightlight anymore, so the light disturbs me.

     Big Brother never hears me go to the window. He snores, and mother says he sleeps like a log of wood, so sometimes I check beneath him for bugs and worms. I’ve only ever seen one cricket and it was pretty quiet, so I guess it was dead. Big Brother says the only good cricket is a dead one, so….it was a poor, good cricket. Killed by my brother’s bottom.

     Anyway, as I was saying, when I see the light, I always climb out of bed and go to the window. And then I see my friends down in Mother’s vegetable garden. Sometimes they dance. But most times they sit in a circle and…

     But, maybe I shouldn’t tell you. You wouldn’t believe me anyway. Maybe you can’t. Maybe you’re not allowed to see my friends, because you’re an adult. You see, I think people grow up to be big everywhere else, except for the spaces in their heads. They don’t need special doctors. Their tales are already short.

     Sometimes that makes me sad, because I think adults should see beautiful things outside their windows at night too. That’s why i’ll give you a hint.

     If you wake up suddenly and see a blue light shining into your room, run to your window and look outside. You see, they come out once in a blue moon……


About feminemdapest

I love words and how beautifully they can be woven. I have a wicked sense of humor and a mind like a sponge, so little gets past me. As a result, I have a garbage heap of a head. Did I mention I love words?
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