November Rain

“Where’s the fluffy monster?” I ask Mum, watching the rain tumble down the windows. His apricot paws will be getting wet out there.
“He’s either in or out,” Mum says as she puts plates and knives and forks on the table. We’re having a proper lunch because my brother is here: returned from Abroad to brighten our lives and to make us a proper family again.
My brother is my favourite person in the world. He is also everyone else’s favourite person in the world, so it’s vital to grasp these bits of time with him and to make the most out of them before someone takes him away. He sits reading his book and the rest of us crowd around him: I’m writing this and Mum is doing the crossword and Dad is dozing in his chair.

The messaging continues with the Twitcher: we tell each other about what we’re getting up to everyday. Don’t know why he wants to know what I’m doing all the time, but the knowledge that I’m going to be reporting back to him motivates me to do some things.
“Who are you writing to?” Mum says.
“The Twitcher,” I say.
“Well make yourself sound interesting,” Mum says.

Anyway: at least we now have a second date arranged…

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