Chapter 21
Dorothy opened her eyes, waking to a change in the sounds of the night. The quietness in this house was somehow different, more intense than in Ipoh. As if the fabric of the building was in deep slumber. A slow plopping sound of the insects was the only back-drop to the thick night air: this time of night created a sense of pleasure, of stillness and peace, a respite before the punitive heat. She reached out with her hand to switch the light on, but there was no illumination. And she realised how she had grown accustomed to the drone of the generator, and that she had been awoken by its sudden absence. She drew the curtains back and waited for the hint of pink to seep upwards from the horizon and above the tree line. After a while, the sky became lighter and a red glow split th
