He has a hump on his back and is missing a thumb. Trapped in the sawmill when he was young. He stoops over the table Drinks tea from a tiny cup Dwarfed in his coarse fingers.
We play drafts and I always choose the colour We watch Gone with the Wind because she says it’s my favourite We eat mince and dumplings because she says its Dad’s favourite
She is a little baby sumo Owl eyes and light wisps of honey hair. I tease her by withdrawing my face As she leans to suck my nose. She flops forward but isn’t ruffled.