They shoot upwards so quickly she can hardly breath, just hold on to her sister’s arm and they’re spinning, the huge finger snapping them round faster, faster, everyone screaming, and she is fine, if she wasn’t screaming she would tell her sister how she is perfectly happy, perfectly happy that she only has a sister in her dreams, if she wasn’t screaming she would tell her sister that if she had been a real sister she too would have found the hanging woman, she too would have had to hate her father, but this way they can talk, be happy, spin, this way, up here, eating cake and oranges above the city screaming
He is lying next to her. He clicks off the TV. ‘You jolted.’
‘No, I’m sorry, I didn’t ask you.’
‘How was your day?’
He laughs, just a little, then more, then so much he can’t speak. All he can do is hold on to her.