"As she looks on at the t.v seemingly hearing it but really its all just white noise to her, still she looks on trying to find meaning to the pictures flashing before her face. Before she finishes her line of thought she is interrupted. What was that noise? Why is the door open? Did i close it? Who is that standing in the doorway? She looks at his face blankly recognising some aspect of familiarity in the rough features. The bright red hair and the arms that are freckled and burnt trigger mild memories in the back of her head, flickers of faded times, far away and yet so close. As he stairs back at her his mouth moves, moulding into shapes that are unfamiliar and odd. She tilts her head and slowly starts trying to concentrate on the memories, a name written on a birthday cake, a young carefree girl with wild curly hair skipping as the spring light filters through the trees throwing shadows onto the path. Suddenly she realises and jumps up from the slowly sinking couch to go and greet her brother from long ago. He is home and he is safe, for now."
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