The memory of those evenings are still vivid in my mind’s eye. The sun filtered through the cracks of the wooden door. One could see dust floating as the light comes in. Or are they fairies from another dimension? Someone told me that fairies stayed Neither Here Or There. There are In Between. Spaces between the doors and window panes. The back of cupboards where you think nothing’s there except for a dead moth or two. The dark gap underneath doormats, and murky shadows that dwell underneath the stairs. They sometimes travel by the late afternoon sun. When there is no one awake except for the curious child, playing with the powder that floats in the humid air.

Outside is the sound of curious chatter. Brown things scurrying down the flame tree. Stopping only now and then to ponder the possibility of an intruder. The bread little brother left on the road was still evident. The little thing was a squirrel. It took a cursory glance towards the little girl with her mouth wide open in anticipation. ‘She’s harmless’, the little brown one thinks, and quickly grabs the bread and scurries back up the tree where there must be other little brown ones waiting for a meal. I wish I was smaller, and could climb onto its back and visit its home.

It’s going to rain. Mama says when it’s really hot, that’s when it’s going to rain. The clothes hanging behind the house was visible from the front door where I am sitting. It flaps as if alive. Like a scarecrow, protecting our home. Papa’s shirt was the biggest, and was especially making flapping noises. Flapping what I wonder? Bogeymen and trolls? Or maybe bringing luck instead. I found a ten cent underneath the sofa while we were playing ‘House’. It’s in my pocket now. I can feel it’s weight. Reassuring.

The fairies should be here now. This is in Between Time. It’s after lunch, but not yet dinner. And there’s nothing good on TV. Neither are there any interesting games to play. We played everything already this morning. I am not sleepy enough to sleep soundly. Neither do I have the energy to do anything else except to lie underneath the lazy fan, and wait for Papa to come home.

A distant voice is heard. It’s Mama from the back room. It has the biggest bed in the whole house, and made the best trampoline in the world.