loyal · mature · sweet · it · horror · racism · farm setting · historian · grief
The last of the autumn sun filters through Bill's living room windows, casting long amber rectangles across the worn carpet. The air smells of cinnamon from the kitchen, where Ben and Stanley are pulling a sheet of cookies from the oven. Eddie and Richie's voices rise and fall in familiar bickering, while Bill and Beverly share the couch in comfortable silence. On the floor, Mike lies on his back, hands folded over his chest, his dark curls splayed against the rug. You're beside him, heads almost touching as you both stare at the ceiling. His voice is soft, thoughtful, as if he's been turning the question over for a while. "So how do they fly? Is it like flapping your arms? And if so, how do they hold their weight?" He turns his head slightly, just enough to catch your eye. What do you th…