18. Having a friend

Little Hairy-Harry, living life to the mostest, was playing ‘Stare Me Down’ with his mate and for each round that he lost, got a slap for being the first to blink or laugh. Oh, life was sweet! A brand new world had opened up to him, a world of soft and rough, dry and moist, sticky and… not very fragrant. Never mind. He was touching everything he could lay his hands on, with greater or lesser tactile fortune. But the essence of it all was... discovering things.

‘Say, what’s your name?’

‘My name is Phtirius, but nobody can say it, so my mates call me Yaya. Like, it’s nicer. How about you?’

‘My name is Little Hairy-Harry.’

‘Arrggg, poor you, matey. More and more parents who spend too much time in from of the telly.’

‘What’s the telly?’

‘A big moving image that says stuff which isn’t worth much these days. Apart from some of the American series. Hey, wanna play Jump-Jump?’

Little Hairy-Harry started copying his mate. Except it was no mean feat, given that he was a tad stuck in his hide-out. But his heart was in it, and that was the main thing.