It was a sultry, gentle and fine day. The grass smelt sweet, the sky a dark and engrossing blue. You lay in the garden, upon a cotton sheet. Sipping on some sweet drink as you flicked the pages of a book. This had been summer ever since you could remember. Bike rides and homemade jam, swimming at the Antibes seaside.

Though this year something or more like someone decided to interrupt it, your fathers new apprentice. He was everywhere, his laugh or his clothes, maybe the smell of his expensive cologne.

As you lay the sun softly decorating your cheeks you hear footsteps, Floyd. What an obnoxious name, you'd think to yourself every time it was mentioned.

"Are you busy?" He asked, staring down at you tilting his head. "Because your father said you'd show me the village." He added, pointing sheepishly toward you.