Do you remember, he recalled her asking, that small space under the stairs? Where we could hide and hear the grownups? Well, then, close you eyes and come with me. Imagine the squarness of the space, the stairiness of the stairs and the voices as they pass by.
He opened his eyes. He closed them quickly.
He didn't want to lose the dream-like quality he always got with her - the feeling, like just after waking up, of being able to slip into the dream again. He was beneath the stairs now, each stair a small geometric L and he was the in the space blocked between them.
He opened his eye. She was gone, of course. She could only use his brain to move, now, his memory to exist. Another long, real, day awaited him. At night he will be able to dream again.

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