There's a lady in the curtains.
I told my mother what I had seen. Today I don't remember; it could be true, but it was a strange time, and times got stranger after my father was arrested and the house started to seep with foul smells from heavy-papered walls and every telephone receiver had tears and every letter had teeth. But Maria said she had seen something or someone too, a dead thing, or what wasn't really there. And one night my mother woke up to me sitting on the end of her bed.
Come here, she told me, but then I was gone.
