My eyes burned and began to water, but my feet transported me, dreamlike, to the shimmering window. I blinked furiously, willing my eyes to adjust and allow me to enjoy this heavenly sight, but they blurred and tears welled, blinding me. Still, my feet carried me on, past the bottom of the bed, towards the warmth of the glorious sunlight. I could hear birds chirping, smell fresh, clean, rich oxygen which broke through the orange-blossom fragrance, beating it away until there was nothing left but the smell of fresh, sun-glossed air.

For a long time – how long I don’t know – I stood in front of the open window, eyes shielded by my left hand, salty tears freely flowing down my pale cheeks, taking my fill of the outside.

I inhaled deeply and stared in wonder at the view that stretched so temptingly before my eyes: first there was a small front lawn, wild and overgrown with long grass so green it hurt my eyes almost as much as the sunlight. Through this tangle of grass weaved a stepping-stone path, the stones of which were pale grey and made smaller by the long blades of grass. The garden wilderness was closed in by a wooden fence that must have stood only as high as my waist and which looked broken and battered in places. Beyond the fence lay a dirt road, on either side of which stood masses of tall, looming trees. In Mother’s magazines and books – on the rare occasion she had shown me – I had seen these things: trees, grass, bushes, sun, sky, farms, houses, animals. I had pictured them in my mind, but never had I seen them for real. So now I stared and stared, feasting on these sights, delighting in their realness.

The thicket of trees stretched on far into the distance, but beyond the dirt road I could see a road made of some kind of grey stone, and then, far away, a beautiful assortment of different coloured fields which splayed out in all directions, one of which held grazing sheep that resembled little clumps of cotton wool. Beyond the sheep field lay a sea of houses which, from this distance, seemed large enough only to house dolls.

Clouds floated across the sun, giving me some relief. I lowered my arm and stared open-mouthed at the scenery. At those houses in the distance. Eagerness and excitement snapped me into action. If Mother wasn’t lying and she’d made a mistake, I could prove to her that I wasn’t allergic to light, and one day she might let me outside.