Narrator: Rafael A. | Southern Chile
My daughter pointed out the light in the empty house across from ours. It had been dark for months while the owner tried to sell it. Now a little amber light moved behind the front window.
I went out, thinking someone had broken in. As I crossed the yard, it moved to the next window. When I stopped, it stopped.
I tried going sideways. The light moved sideways. I raised my phone torch and it rose towards the ceiling. There wasn’t enough room inside for a person to lift a lamp that high.
My daughter opened our front door and called me back. The light went out.
Behind the dark glass I saw several small pale shapes, crowded together at the height of the sill. They all dropped out of sight when she called again.
I rang the owner. He came the next day and we checked every room. Empty. No electricity connected. He was more worried about squatters than anything else.
My daughter wanted to know if it would copy her movements too. I told her she was never to try. I hadn’t realised she’d been watching me closely enough to work out what I’d been doing, and that frightened me almost as much as the light.
