Henry’s Breakfast is Still Here

My brother Henry’s been missing for twenty-three hours. Gone since yesterday’s breakfast. He is two years younger than me, and I’m seven. Nobody’s moved his bowl off the table, all his coco-pops have disappeared and the milk is brown and murky. Mam was shouting at Dadda. Dadda threw his cup of tea at the wall and it’s still there now, like a big splatt. Like the wall is bleeding. I put my toast in my pocket and ran out the door. Should of taken Henry with me. He was sitting still as an icicle, his face white as a ghost.


Published in paperback: Ada and more nano-fiction by Leaf Books Ltd 2009