Sun Mote Copse rancho mirage

The bairn squawked when his grandmother’s fist rubbed at his head, though Towhee quickly released him. Skipjack swatted at her but missed, though he laughed. His eyes were bright in the gloom as she suggested they play a game, maybe after giving the rest of the family a chance to shelter here with them.

Síomón Says, he corrected Towhee’s pronunciation, then, Ya!

It didn’t make sense for him to assume the role of Síomón—or for any of that participants to follow the rules, strictly speaking—given his blindness, but Skipjack always enjoyed the game. His family always made sure it was full of sensory delights to keep it enriching for him.

He sat up and turned his face toward Towhee, then toward the door. It was easy to locate it, particularly with the loud rainfall. He watched it with ears, nose and an anticipatory expression, waiting for his parents and sister to come home so they could begin—and so he could tell them all about finding his way home by himself, of course!