The last sweet notes of the violin hummed over Gage's ears. He held still five seconds more, letting the world slowly wash back in. Insects buzzed outside and the murmurs of conversation downstairs reminded him of his parents and the hour. No sun warmed the right side of his face, so he shifted, turning in the direction of his window. One foot of distance between chair and window--he reached out, fingering the plane of glass and finding it cool. So it was night then. He must have been playing for an hour then. With practiced ease, he felt for the violin's case where it rested against his foot and put the instrument away.

The insect noise called his attention again. Listening carefully, he separated the sound of crickets from a moth thumping against his window sill, so soft, but loud to his sensitive ears. It would be a good night for a fly. Keeping one hand on the wall, he walked through his room and to the hall, stopping three paces from the stair top. He didn't even need to count, his body knowing the layout by heart even if his eyes did not.

"Mom!" he called. The conversation silenced in an instant. Rustles--they were at the kitchen table and now turned toward him. "I'm going out for a few hours. I'll be back."

"Okay honey. Be back before morning."

No more restriction than that. So different from the rules during the day, but then, at night, his sightless eyes didn't matter. Returning to his bedroom, he stripped without pause and threw open the window. Cool air met him, but nothing to make him shiver. No pause, no preamble. He just let himself fall into the night air.

A second later, his form shifted and a tiny bat circled back up toward the sky. The darkness opened up below him, revealing homes, gardens, the insects, cars, and a long lonely street edged by woods. This was his world. Sometimes he hated being blind, but when he flew as a bat, the world he 'saw' then almost made up for it.

batting his wings, he swooped toward the trees, intending to hunt for a little snack.

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