My Blinking Brother

I looked up from my book about geese husbandry. My ugly twin brother was leering at me.

"You want some help with the small words, sis?"

Ignoring him, I resumed reading:

The domestic goose feather has many practical uses, from bedding to handicrafts to sticking down your annoying brother's throat until he chokes....

OK, so I added that last bit myself. Why oh why did I have to be stuck with such a twit for a twin?

Sighing, I carefully marked my place in my book with my perfectly pressed flower bookmark, and placed it gently on the table beside my chair. We were sitting in the front room of our parent's old farmhouse, and out of the window I could just see our mom working in the small vegetable garden near the pond. It was a beautiful day, and maybe it was time for a walk - if nothing else, it would get me away from my brother for a while.

"What do you want, you prat?" I had recently learned a few mildly naughty British slang words, and that one seemed especially suitable for my bother.

He blinked at me.

A tear rolled slowly down his left cheek, and he began to blink rapidly.

I stared at him, lost for words.

"Let's go for a walk, eh? I'm going to miss you so much when I leave for college."

I stood up, warily. He put his arm round me, and guided me out of the front door.

Even the thought of absence makes the heart grow fonder, or perhaps more accurately, makes it realize that it's been fond all along.

"I'll miss you too, you twit." I reached up to his cheek and wiped the tears off with my sleeve.

The geese honked at us as we passed by.