Again, you have woken up to ask where
the child is. How must it be when people walk out of your sleep into
the space behind your bed's headboard, pull at your bedsheet and say a few
words, argue vehemently and disobey you as youngsters do, then
disappear into the dark when the exhausted daughter -- you had less grey hair at her age-- standing in front
of you says, "There is no one, it is 3am,