The son appeared inside the house before the father. The father had begun to rub his forearms soft together, creating further song. The father stood against the wall, the son against him. The son said something to the father and the father did not reply. The father exhaled through his mouth. The father was looking through the room at where the son was but the father could not see the son. The father said something aloud.
Against the wall inside the next room, the mother cocked her head. She had to cup her lips to keep from laughing.
Her neck was sore. She had an awful twitch. Above the mother’s head there was a window.
Through the window you could see into the backyard, where the light was gushed and bronzing. The yard had grown. The light was null. The swimming pool had overflowed. Black algae water sloshed the grass and tore the sod up. The yard could moan a little.
The copy father and the copy mother, in the deep parts, floated up and down and up.