CHANNILLO

THE ROOM BETWEEN THE SECONDS (1)
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     “Hello,” he said from the tiny sliver of light shining out of the crack between panels of false wood next to my bed.

     “Hello,” I answered in my five-year-old voice.

     “Don't be scared,” he said. His voice was warm and happy.

     I wasn't. I didn't even think that I should be. Maybe all new houses came with lights in the wall full of warm-voiced greetings. At five, how was I supposed to know? I smiled and leaned in to put my eye to the crack. I could just make out a shadow blocking the view of a large room full of colors. The shadow laughed invitingly.

     “Would you like to come in? I think you would like it here. I've got a lot of toys and I n...

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