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.
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.
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.