The night was at its darkest, the last steps away from the apricot sunset. For a long time my milk white eyes had been focusing on the house in front, as quick as a flash I glided towards it. Knock, knock, knock on the door and again, again no one would respond I guess they were asleep I tried to get through the door until I realised with a small boys push the door slid open… this was my chance.
The door on the right was open, no signs of the old lady that haunts this place. Close in front, in the open area by the room covered in lots of mess. An old goat that smelt of old yams and mash pulled me away from the area I was in. But that didn’t stop me from finding the young girl who dreamt of fire. Along with a young boy covered in mud, clatter pod seeds and mostly sunburnt from the hot day its there turn next…