Missing

We’re leaving tonight. Because it is so hot, Jenny wants to drive in the night. When there’s nothing to look at through the holes, my travel box can be quite comfortable. I might even sleep some of the way.

I will miss Walter and Dorothy and this place. I’ve hardly given my worries a second thought.

For the first few days I followed Walter everywhere – that is, when I could find him. But in the last days he has followed me. You would think that living here he wouldn’t have much on his mind, but it’s surprising what jumps up in there when you think you’ve got it firmly under you.

I found out that Walter likes to stand on the table while Dorothy is looking at her computer and then when she closes the lid he goes to the cupboard first as though he is checking to see if it’s safe for her. I’m sure she doesn’t need him to do that but I think she likes it.

The spider’s web in the window was gone today. The window was so clean that I touched it to make sure it was still there.

Dorothy is often talking about dust; sometimes she even wraps her little computer in a cloth. I think she cut the cloth from an old dress; it has pictures of flowers and grass all over it.

Poor Dorothy, she thinks I only know when she touches me.

I think I will miss Walter too.