"You're beeping. Girls find guys who beep a real turn-off."

"Hey. I'm not bloody beeping! If you want an excuse not to kiss me, it'll need to be better than that."


Kelvin opened the curtains. Then he grabbed his bag and trundled downstairs. His mind felt like a blank slate, but he was trying to remember. He wandered into the kitchen, where Tania was making toast.

"Heya, squirt," she chirped, with a forced brightness that seemed to fit the sunny day. She fixed on Kelvin's grimace for a moment. "...And other older-sister-to-younger-brother clich├ęs." Tania took a sip of coffee, recollecting the commercials that they watched on vacation in Britain all those years ago, featuring that eccentric couple - did they ever get together? Then she decided to make the sororal interest a bit more sincere. "What's up?"

Kelvin dropped his head. "I had another one of those dreams."

"The wacky Broadway nightmares?"


Tania wasn't sure why these dreams bothered Kelvin so much - she wished she had the imagination for them herself. Maybe because he could never remember them properly. "Same people as the other times?" she asked.

"No, different people. Some of them could really sing. It sorta rounded itself off when my alarm went off - you know how dreams are."

Tania's toast popped up. She met Kelvin's inquisitive gaze. "We're out of pancakes," she explained.

The siblings ate breakfast quietly for a few minutes. Then Kelvin looked up gleefully. "Hey! I remember some of it! There was a shop... no, before that, a graveyard..."

"Kid," interjected Tania, "you gotta write this down!" She was excited too. She looked around for a pen.

"There was this girl, and she was singing as she walked along. 'Every night, it's the same arrangement.' No, that doesn't scan... 'Every ni'... no, 'every single night'!" Kelvin pushed back his chair and stood up. "'Every single night, the same arrangement...'"