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A short story by Wodke Hawkinson

© 2012 by Wodke Hawkinson

All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.

This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations and events in this work are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.

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A soft snick sounded from the corner of the room, drawing Mica’s attention. He rolled over in his bed and peered through the shadows. A door was opening slowly, a really small door that had never been there before. A shaft of light from the door lay across his carpeted floor. Mica started to call for his parents when he heard a small voice.

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