In the darkness the wardrobe looms.
Victoria Plum dances across the walls
and a tiny hand pulls her down,
the paper falling into her fingers.
Holding it in her palm,
she crushes it, listening to
the soft crunch.
She pushes the paper balls
down between the wall and the bed;
as far as her arm will allow, until
she can hear his muffled steps
shuffle across the landing.
The room begins to brighten
with yellowed light,
until he looms, like a wardrobe.
His dull breathing suffocates the room.
The yellow returns to darkness.