CHAPTER 8-01
Summer was beautiful.
Awe-worthy, like the tentative glow of a newly winged angel's halo, the sunlight that crept into the room stole Sylvester's breath. It held within its long, piercing arcs the colours of the rainbow and the secrets of the universe, and as it slithered across the floorboards to where he lay flat on his back on the cloud-shaped rug, it filled him with an undeniable warmth.
His fingers danced in the beams, wiggling, an occasional giggle breaking through his lips as the heat transferred to his flesh, igniting it in shadows and highlights. Giddy and content, feeling an alleviating sense of freedom at the prospect of having nothing to do, and no responsibilities that he needed to take care of, he just lay there. The snack of carrot sticks and Kool-Aid, which
