They’re My Children

Before Susan’s mother left, we gave her a phone to stay in touch with us. She called once to thank us for letting her stay here then added she couldn’t talk for long. After that we didn’t hear anything. We were about to pay them a visit when Susan’s father knocked on the door, looking worried. “One of my komodo dragons is sick,” he said. “Mary said we might be able to look up on the internet what to do.” Deadpan and I had fun learning about neurons; he says that’s what memories are made of.


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