I am in Bear’s room.
We are sitting on the armchair by the window.
The blinds are pulled closed, and it is black outside.
We are sitting in the dark.
Bear is drinking his milk, and I am holding him.
Outside, cars keep driving by.
It’s been a hot day, but a cool breeze is finally filtering in through the window.
He finishes drinking and hands me the bottle. I place it on his dresser and give him his dummy.
I put my head back and drift off to sleep.
Many moments later, I surface, and I can hear Bear chatting to himself.
“Bear, Bear,” he seems to be saying.
I am spellbound. I try to encourage him to say more words, but he falls silent.
Perhaps he only speaks when he knows I’m not listening. Cheeky little monkey.
We exchange kisses. I tell him I love him. I lower him into his cot.
I walk out, and I exhale…