From the corner of my eyes I see movement. We're Thursday, school tomorrow. I'm standing at the sink, doing the washing while Mano is supposedly getting into bed. Peripheral vision register a small body picking something up the pen-pencil-craft box. I soundlessly put down the dishes and creep in The bedroom. Mano's here, a paintbrush in one hand, the second on on the lamp post, ready to flick the light on and off. Aunty's Lola phosphorescent ink open. He's getting a moon and a star ready...