Hold my hand. Don't let go.

Every breath, every heartbeat, was one less until maybe things stopped hurting this much.

The inside of the door is glossy white. A total re-paint. I touch it with my fingers, but it stays the same. It's so bright it makes the room waver at the edges. Every few years we disappear.

Parents don't know their children at all. No one knows anyone, in fact.

It hurts and hurts to have him this close. I feel sick with it.

There's a gang of boys on bikes blocking the road ahead. They've got their hoods up, cigarettes shielded. The sky's a really strange colour and there's hardly anyone else about. I slow right down. "What shall I do?" "Reverse," Zoey says. "They're not going to move." I wind down the window. "Oi!" I yell "Move your arses!" They turn languid, shift lazily to the edge of the road and grin as I blow kisses at them. Zoey looks stunned, "What's got into you?" "Nothing- I just haven't learned reversing yet.

That slow smile again. I love that smile! DId I think he was ugly just now? No, his face is transformed.