Single mom Selina Sardi would do anything for her 6-year-old son. Eager to turn their new house into a real home for him, she's devastated when she discovers that the monster under his bed is not a figment of his imagination but the real deal.
Elia...
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Seven apartments in just as many years. Selina Sardi was goddamn tired.
Every time they had stuffed their belongings in giveaway gym bags and cardboard boxes, she had told her five-year-old, Lowie, that the new place they were moving into was going to be different, that it was going to be better somehow, that they would turn it into a real home, but this time was unlike the others.
This time, it might be true.
With that spark of hope, a sense of pride blossomed in Selina's chest. She took a moment to admire her name tag on the solid, green letterbox and the cheerful curtains she had put up a week earlier. She had chosen the fabric and commissioned the seamstress of her choice with her own money. For the first time in her life, Selina had picked out her own curtains.
She wasn't going to share the high, narrow row house in the quiet suburb of Bruges with anyone but Lowie.
No relatives would poke their nose where it didn't belong, no roommates would disturb Lowie's sleep, no landlord would try to put his hands on her or threaten to evict them. She would have nobody to answer to but herself.
It was her house, the result of hard labor and relentless cutting back on all things nice, and it would all be worth it.
Meanwhile, Lowie sucked a lime lollipop till his cheeks stuck, upheld the vacuum for a few seconds, then popped the thing out to inspect the color of his tongue with his eyes crossed. Selina ignored how dirt and sweat fused his other hand with hers and squeezed it gently. "Are you ready?"
"This place stinks." With a scrunched nose, Lowie looked up and down the one-lane street.
It was a pretty neighborhood. The tall brick houses were well kept, as were their tiny square front yards, some brimming with colorful geraniums, others an organized patchwork of rock and gravel. One could tell the inhabitants took pride in their homes, a realization that filled Selina with a fuzzy warmth.
Tonight, however, several neighbors had already put their garbage out in anticipation of tomorrow's collection, that would come around early in the morning as was custom on hot summer days like these. Meanwhile the evening stretched out in a sultry, orange blaze and the last rays of sunshine worked hard to decompose the waste.
She sighed, wishing she had introduced her wary son to this house any other day, but no use crying over spilled milk. They were here now and this was a happy occasion.
"Wait till we get inside. You'll love it. You'll see." The door lock jammed, much like the emotion building in the back of her throat. Lowie had to like this house. He had to.
She wiggled the door back and forth till it finally gave way into the dark hallway with a dragged, creaking sound.
"It's tiny." Lowie peeked inside, still unwilling to step over the threshold. "This must be the smallest house in all of Bruges."
