18:00 · sundown
Homey, tight-chested since four, sits on the wall by the bridge deciding to go home. Mopsy sits down and says nothing for a long while. Because they are the only two fluffs being silent, Mopsy hears the bridge lantern's glass ticking as the crack opens in the heat — it would have gone over the water within ten minutes. They swap it for Mendy's spare, the one with the flower off a tea towel.
2 fluffs tell this minute. None of them saw the same one.
At six o'clock I was sitting on the bridge wall with both arms round both knees, deciding to go home for good — properly this time, bed, no party. Mopsy came and sat down and did not argue with me, which is the only reason I stayed long enough to work out what I actually wanted.
What I actually wanted was not three hours of noise. What I actually wanted, very much, was to be there when Rainbow came up the path and got to the door.
And at six o'clock I found Homey on the bridge wall with both arms round both knees, deciding to go home for good.
I did not say cheer up. I did not say everybody's down at the gate.
"Can I sit with you for a bit?"
"Mm."
