The boy

We were sitting in the market square, waiting, talking about the things around us —  he was sitting on my knee.

“I like clouds, Daddy,” he said.

“What’s your favourite thing about clouds?” I said.

“They’re fluffy. And I like shops.”

“And why do you like shops?”

“Because they sell food and things. And I like Daddy.”

“Oh? And why do you like Daddy?”

“Because he reads bedtime stories that stay in my heart.”

I tell you this: if I manage nothing else in my life, that’ll do.