..."So after my dad died, me and my mom moved over here. I like it here, its nearly always sunny. Besides there's no constant reminders of Dad here.''...I said as I stuck some more sequins onto the frame of the cardboard. Michael is just sat there listening. Over the past hour I found out he is a good listener, as he doesn't really have any stories of his own to tell. He has just breezed through life, no worries or troubles, like one of those unlucky people where nothing ever goes wrong for him.. It started with me going downstairs to the living room, pouring a glass of mum's favourite tipple and taking it to her in the kitchen."Thank you Chris," she half smiled as I handed her the glass, "how sweet of you."I stood and watched her sip her drink while preparing our evening meal, before long her glass was empty and she put it aside. As soon as she looked away I grabbed the glass, went back to the living room and refilled it. Back in the kitchen I handed the full glass to my mother. More

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