Harvey George

I awoke to the bright sun streaming through the loosely drawn curtains. Spring 1975 was in full swing: birds were chirping, the air was filled with the scent of apple blossoms, and the first tulips were blooming on the front lawn. My parents had left the previous morning, promising to return only the day after tomorrow. Usually, I eagerly awaited such moments, so I could do things that were usually forbidden. Today, for example, I had planned to take a night stroll around the neighborhood.

George Harvey, our neighbor, seemed like a perfectly ordinary person, even slightly approachable. He stopped by often, always with a smile and a few stories. I remember once he gave me a dollhouse he'd made himself, along with a doll. It was a beautiful house, with tiny furniture and wallpaper. I thought then that Harvey was a very kind and talented person.

I spent the whole day waiting for darkness. I read comics, listened to music on an old record player, and tried to keep quiet so as not to attract unnecessary attention from the neighbors.

When the sun had finally set and it was completely dark outside, I quietly slipped out of the house. Adrenaline was coursing through my veins, as my parents had strictly forbidden me from going out at night. I enjoyed the cool spring air and the silence, broken only by the occasional barking of dogs in the distance.

Suddenly, I heard the sound of a car pulling up. My heart started pounding. I pressed myself against the fence, trying to remain unnoticed. To my surprise, it was Harvey's car. He rolled down the window and waved at me.

“Hello,” he said in his usual good-natured tone. “What are you doing here at this hour?”

I hesitated a little, but then decided to tell the truth.

“Just hanging out,” I muttered. “My parents are away, and I’m bored.”

"I see," Harvey chuckled. "You know, I just finished a new dollhouse, but I forgot to take it with me. Want to show you? There's a place there where I make them."

My heart started beating even faster. The night, the mysterious place, and the new dollhouse—it all seemed incredibly interesting. And, of course,