Then something weird happened.
Leo slumped deeper into the sofa, pulling the hood of his sweatshirt so low it became a fabric cave. The world, he decided, was too loud, too bright, and too happy without his permission.
By lunchtime, the mard had reached critical mass. He refused to play football because “the grass was the wrong shade of green.” He sat alone on the damp bench, watching everyone else laugh, kick, trip, and get back up again. mardy bum
Then Maya appeared, out of breath, holding a crumpled drawing. “Leo! I made this for you. It’s you… but smiling.”
“Fine. Grumpasaurus Rex.”
A tiny robin landed on the toe of his trainer. It tilted its head, looked Leo dead in the eye, and let out a single, sharp chirp. It sounded, Leo thought, suspiciously like “cheer up.”
It was Tuesday, which Leo already considered “the Monday of the rest of the week.” His toast was too crispy. His shoelace snapped. And his little sister, Maya, had the audacity to hum the theme tune from that cartoon she knew he secretly liked. Then something weird happened
Their mum, folding laundry in the hallway, didn’t look up. “Oh, here we go. Mardy bum alert. Code red.”