Downstairs, Miranda is playing the theme music for Amelie on the piano. The sky outside threatens rain. The air hangs with that autumn grey quiet. A lamp illuminates the computer screen. It's a time for tea and crumpets and butter and snuggling on a sofa to watch on old black and white.
What's that word? Languishing. Despondent? Without thought. Drifting. The keys ring out from downstairs, upwards, along the corridor.
Comforting.
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