This experience occurred when I was around two years of age. We lived in Ontario in what I remember as a small, two-bedroom house with ugly orange carpeting and dark-paneled walls that made the small living room seem even smaller. Near the front door, contained within plastic frames designed to look antique, there hung two paintings: a boy elf, and a girl elf.  The pictures were hung so that it looked like the boy and girl were facing each other…

I don’t remember how it happened, but every night, in the wee hours, I would find myself sitting on the floor in the middle of the living room.  My mother was usually fast asleep on the couch, and my father slept in their bedroom.  I would sit on the floor in the middle of the living room, listening to my mother’s light snoring, and I would stare at the pictures…