When I’m lonely, which is not nearly as often as before, I talk to him and he actually hears me. Because BFG hears all the secret whisperings of the world.
Words. They’s all such a twitch-tickling problem to me all my life. I knows exactly what words I want to say but somehow or other they all comes out squiff-squiddled ’round.
It was the witching hour, when the boogeyman comes out. When people go missing. Matron thinks the witching hour arrives at midnight. The girls say 1:00 or 2:00 in the morning. I think it comes at 3:00 in the morning, when I’m the only one left awake. Like always. Like now.