As her children came closer, Ylva noticed - not for the first time - how they each favored one eye as they looked at her. With Joker, it was always his left eye, the blue, and with Harley, it was always her right, the brown. Naive as Ylva was, she was not stupid. She could see the fogginess in their non-dominant eyes, and while all the evidence of them being partially blind had troubled her at first, it did not seem to bother the twins at all. Thus, Ylva had slowly come to terms with it, and had never brought it up with them. Why should she, if it hardly seemed to affect them? They got on so well as they were that it was quite easy to forget about it.
And, of course, Ylva had not called them over to talk about that anyhow.
Yet, now that they stood before her, their young faces looking up at her expectantly, Ylva found her tongue frozen. She looked down at the sleeping form of Torsten, splayed out on the grass without a care in the world, and decided they should move a few paces away so as not to wake him. Once that was done, Ylva faced the twins again, her dark eyes flicking between their faces.
“The two of you are nine months old now. Soon enough, you’ll be a year old, and then two, and then you’ll be all grown up. Have either of you thought about what you would like to do when that time comes?”
3; norwegian fjord; red dun pangare; 14hh
|
|