Tommy 

It had been raining for hours; the sky was grey and it looked like it was going to stay that way. Tom was sitting on his bed in his room, wearing a pair of blue pyjamas with smiley pandas. He had been trying to get proper for days so he could get better at fighting the tiredness that had been present for the past weeks. Now he no longer felt sleepy and he was also gravely bored.

He got out of bed to stretch his legs and sharpen his senses. Once his feet touched the ground, he felt relief and calmness flooding in. He took a few steps towards the window and looked around the street. It was overcast out and he could see a little river forming in the street in front of the house. The sewers could no longer contain the water and it kept spreading on the road. The prefab on the other side of the street looked abandoned; there was no light in any of the windows and it made him feel dejected.

"Uh oh," he said to himself.

It was 2 a.m. and he really didn't want to sleep anymore. He was thinking of school and his friends, whom he hadn't seen for a long time. He could feel his face light up at the memory of them, imagining running with them outside, squealing in delight.

He went to the bookcase and, in the semi-darkness of the room, he reached for his favourite book. It was an old, bound book. He'd know the back of the it anywhere. It was the only one with three lumpy edges. He made it to the table silently, put the book down and carefully flipped the switch of the lamp. He waited for a moment to see if the light had woken somebody else in the flat. He looked at the white door where there was a poster showing the beauty of trees and a majestic mountain range in the background. He was hoping that the feeble light from underneath the door wouldn't disturb anybody from their night-time rest.

Everything around was still silent.

He relaxed and looked at the name of the book.

Picture encyclopaedia of animals all over the world, it read.

It was obviously often used. He opened it in exactly the place he wanted to see. There was a jumping dolphin which often tended to appear in his dreams. Seeing its pictures made him happy. He studied closely the smiles and innocent romps of the joyous creature.

He remembered a documentary film showing these adventurous creatures frolicking around in the wake of a ship, swimming towards the unknown in a friendly manner. He could feel the pictures hugging him virtually, which again lifted his mood and he thought that once he got better, he might like pay a visit to a sea aquarium which had recently been open in a nearby zoo.

He thought he could ask Erika to go come along and that thought made his heart beat faster. We could have a ball, he thought. Erika was his friend, one whom he met last year when she moved into their house. She was a smiley ginger girl who wasn't afraid of unexpected and mysterious adventures.

He suddenly yawned.

He took a sip of his tea (which had got cold by then) and went to tuck himself in his blue and white duvet. Just when he was about to fall asleep, he realised he was being disturbed by the light of the table lamp which he'd left on; he didn't feel like getting up, his body was telling him that it was really tired. I hope the light won't disturb anyone, he thought to himself before the gentleness of the duvet pulled him into a dream.

Next day he woke up to an unexpected commotion in the kitchen; he got up and felt happy about his previous evening's contemplations. His Mum was in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for him. There was a glass kettle full of delicious black tea. A freshly made toast made the flat smell heavenly.

"What are you doing here, Mum?" he asked, looking at the clock.

It was 9 am and everyone was supposed to be at work.

"I changed my shifts so I could be with you," she told him with gentle playfulness.

"How are you feeling, darling?" she asked him cautiously.

Tom's smile spread all over his face.

"I'm great," he said valiantly.

"What would you like to do this morning?" she asked playfully.

"Could you read my favourite adventure book to me?" he asked.

"Sure thing! I hope my untrained voice won't make a mess of the story," she answered prudently.

Tom rolled his eyes to signal that he thought she was being silly and that he wasn't even going to react to that. His Mum laughed to herself. He could always lift her spirits. Tom started eating his breakfast and she went to air his room and make his bed.

"I'm so glad to see you're feeling better. Your sheets are not sweaty, shall I leave them on?" she called to him in a doctor-like manner.

"God, Mum!" Tom called back with raised eyebrows, shaking his head as if to say that this was of no interest to him.

The room was ready.

Tom put the dishes in the sink and ran back to bed. His Mum brought in a swinging chair from the living room, put on a scented candle, one she often used in her office, and drew the curtains to make the atmosphere slightly more adventurous. Tom pulled another big pillow from his chest of drawers and put it against the wall to make himself more comfortable.

The inexperienced reader opened the book, given once to Tom by his grandfather, her father. The book told a story of an Indian boy who faced many challenges in his life in order to realise what he was trying to achieve.

She allowed herself to dream for a little while; she could see a picture of her father writing this book in his study, which was out of bounds for everyone. It was all just a game of pretend, though, just to show the children that he sometimes didn't want to be disturbed. Things were different on Sundays, though; he would always take the children in the room and he would read to them for hours. He would read the most incredible stories his spirit could come up with.

These moments were magical for her. They'd forget the outside world for hours and the only world that existed was the one in the little study which, thanks to his imagination, was a little different every Sunday.

"Thank you, Dad, for your fair-mindedness and love with which you always spoke to me; I need both right now!" She said to herself silently and looked at her son with great sadness in her eyes.

Tom fell asleep from exhaustion before she could read even one line of the story. She opened the book and started to read it to him anyway; it was the least she could do for him at that moment. She could feel her eyes welling up with tears as she was saying the words of the story, which was filling up Tom's room with the same love she once felt from her father's stories in the tidy little study.

It was dark outside.

"Darling?" she heard a voice.

She opened her eyes.

Her exhaustion made her fall asleep in the armchair. The book was lying wide open on the carpet as it had slipped from her hands.

"Love, are you awake?" She heard the comforting voice of her husband.

He was right next to her, picking up the book.

"It's time to go. I made you a snack and a thermos with coffee for work," he told her gently.

"I'm sorry I can't go with you," she said gloomily.

"We can do it, we're men," he answered jokingly, waddling about like a babybird.

She laughed on the inside and it made her feel guilty. She went to the bedroom to get ready for work. From there, she heard the voice of her husband, waking Tom up gently.

"Tom, wake up, it's time to go," he would say.

"Is it time to see the nurses and the doctor?" Tom asked in a resigned voice.

"Yes," his father answered bravely.

Her legs almost gave out when she heard the question. She could no longer hold back the tears which started rolling freely down her face. She tried to calm down as quickly as she could but the more she tried, the more her heart felt like it was being ripped into pieces. She grasped the edge of her vanity so tightly that it made some small bottles roll off it. Her joints turned white and she desperately tried to regain her composure.

"You can do this," she said aloud and wiped off her tears with her palms.

Her husband and Tom were soon ready to go. She offered to drive them. She didn't care about being late for a meeting which was supposed to decide the future of the company.

They met Erika by the staircase.

She greeted them quickly and smiled warmly at Tom. He waved at her excitedly. Erika took a few fearful steps toward him and hugged him tightly. Tom realised how beautiful life could be in these little moments of honesty.

"Erika?" he called when he realised that he might no longer be able to see her regularly.

"Yes, Tom?"

She turned to him from the last step.

"Live with ordinary fullness in every moment," his heart said calmly.

"I will, Tom!" she said amicably and ran back home.

"We can go to chemo now," the seven-year-old told his parents.

The light coming out of the lift passed through the hall and they set off together.