Lightning. I don’t know why, but I’ve always liked them. While the other children were afraid every time they heard those thunder, I was always in front of the window, with my eyes closed, to hear them, while in my mind images of monsters were revealed, but also of fantastic, distant and mysterious lands.

I’m grown up now. I am a single mother with a seven year old girl, I divorced my husband two years ago. I now live in a house in the middle of Pennsylvania, in a small grove. My daughter woke up sleepy this morning. I asked her if she had slept so much, but she said no because she had heard lightning outside the window. I was somewhat surprised: what lightning was he talking about?

I hadn’t heard them. I didn’t think much about it, I ate breakfast, took my daughter to school and went to work; now I’m home, it’s evening, I’ve cooked and I’m about to say goodnight to my daughter. Slowly I enter his room, approach his bed and …

It’s empty. There is nobody. I look around, bewildered, and suddenly I notice her. A camera. Near the window, which is also open.

Suddenly, I think how easy it can be to mistake a window camera flash for lightning …