Every year, before I have to settle down into the routine of school, I have this tradition:

I camp out in the garden in a tent.

I could see her chocolate brown eyes filling with tears, I resisted the temptation to wipe them away with my fingers. Her silky soft was close enough to stroke...

Harvey, clearly unable to think of an argument, made a very ungainly attempt at getting out of the bed while still keeping a duvet around him.

I stared at the mess on the floor that was Harvey. Then I burst out laughing. There was no response.

I bent down to check whether he was still alive.

“Oh I don’t believe it,” I said to no one in particular, “He’s gone back to sleep…”

My heart broke.

I swear it did.