It's about the Passover. I've had it in my head for ages. I've had a bunch of short stories up there for ages, and I've decided to let 'em all out this February, now that I'm started on all the stories I owe people.
Everything shook a little, that was the first thing.
‘Oh, God.’ Dad looked at the ceiling. ‘Please do not harm my family, please—’ But I ran around and put my hand to his mouth. I climbed up into his lap as Dawn had climbed into mine, because it is comforting to have a child to look after, and even when he dropped his prayer-gabble to a whispering I stopped him with my fingertips.
‘Shush, Dad,’ I said. ‘Just listen.’
Which he did. How can we sleep, other nights, with that enormous darkness all about, going on and on all the way to the million stars, with all that room in it for winds and clouds, dangers and visitations?