Later that evening, Richard sat at the kitchen table, absently poking through his mother’s stir-fry, not in the least bit hungry.
“Are you feeling all right, Rich?”
Richard shrugged his shoulders, pushed his plate away and sat back, staring into space. “I’m okay, it’s just, I met this boy in school. New boy. He invited me back to his house, and I met his folks. But they were odd. And him, he’s …weird.”
weird.“Weird?” His dad stood up, crossed to the cooker, and helped himself to more food. “This is really good, Rich. You should try it.”
“Why’s he weird?” asked Mum.
“Dunno. The way he talks. Like he’s a character in a book.”
“Well, what’s so wrong with that?” Dad slumped down again and shovelled noodles and vegetables into his mouth.
Richard sighed. “It’s not normal – like he’s from
