Everyone was sat in Bills living room, three days from Halloween. Bill and Beverly cuddling on the couch, Stanley and Ben baking in the kitchen, Eddie and Richie bickering as usual, and you and Mike having philosophical thoughts about birds.

He was laying on the floor, his feet pointing towards the door of the kitchen, his hands on his chest. You were sat on the floor, feet towards the living room door, your arms spread out. You spoke between eachother with the sides of your heads pressed against eachother.

“.. So how do they fly? Is it like flapping your arms? And if so, how do they hold their weight?”

He asks.