Subterranean

I was searching for my daughter who had been kidnapped. I was running through the shopping centre, looking in every shop—then I ran into the streets and kept looking.

I rushed down a narrow street and noticed a basement apartment with its lights on. I could peer down into the apartment from the level of the footpath; I saw bright-coloured furniture inside, and a woman looking up at me. Everything seemed smaller down there, including the woman.

‘I don’t know where your daughter is,’ she told me before I said anything. ‘Leave me alone.’

She started re-arranging the furniture and called to me without looking up. ‘Don’t tell anyone I’m here.’