It was always quiet this time in the evening. Brendan had been down this road, passed this letter box, crossed at this corner, and waited at these lights, many times before.
The rain drummed like giant fingers on the roof of our shed, and ran in little rivers over the drive. Dad was happy. He’d been miserable all summer. “Just what we need” he said.
There’s a thing in the corner of my bedroom. Mummy says I’m not to worry about it. She says it’s not really there, and it’s my imaj… something. She keeps on using big words like that.