None of them looks happy.
Mum’s dress doesn’t hide all she’d like it to.
She fiddles and fusses
and adjusts it and herself in it.
The design distracts anyway.
Dad’s typical for his age.
Expanding stomach. Dull clothes. Tired eyes.
Slumped shoulders.
The younger sister occupies herself as best she can.
As lost as she can be in her phone.
The elder sister notices all that’s going on
But barely says a word.
Mum’s in charge.
None of them complains.
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