“What, No. O-kay” Wren said, getting utterly ignored by the short woman pushing past him into his apartment.

“What’s your name” she said, looking expectantly down at her notepad, and then back at him.  

“Natalie get in here!”

“Wren. Please don’t do that” He said to the new girl that had materialized by him and began fixing his hair.

The woman surveyed his apartment pointing to the basketball on the floor, “Do you play?”

“Maybe. Why are you here?”

She picked up a picture of a blond girl smiling widely sitting on the table next to the door, “Girlfriend?”

“No, sister. Stop that” He said to Natalie who was inspecting his nose.

“Broken nose, Beth” Natalie reported, before taking her camera out of its case.

“Defending the flaxen haired sister from danger?” Beth probed while scribbling on the note pad.

“No. Seriously?” He asked turning to Natalie, who had picked up Claudette and removed her from the green love seat where she had been sprawling in the sun. “She was ruining the shot”.

“I apologize on her behalf, she’s so unaware sometimes” Wren said dryly, taking an upset looking cat and putting her back into the chair.

Wren’s phone buzzed on the coffee table and Beth picked it up. “Sasha asked if you had the 7 o’clock shift. Love interest?”

“Give me that! Jesus.” Wren grabbed for the phone.

“Defensive. That’s an affirmative”

“She’s nice. Please leave”

“Nice, huh? I suppose she’s also cute?”

Wren placed his hand in his hair, as he often did.

“Just… Please.”

"It's supposed to be a rabbit".

"It's not a rabbit"

"Right, but in theory, it's a rabbit”

“Technicality of its being. It’s not a rabbit”

Jane smiled at Wren as he pulled his fingers away from the flashlight, “You know if you weren’t my brother I wouldn’t be telling you this. I’m informing you out of the goodness of my heart, and my want to protect you.” Wren laughed, “I think you just don’t understand impressionist art. What can I say, shadow puppetry such as mine isn’t for everyone”. “Or anyone” Jane said, leaning back into the aged leather cushions of Wren’s couch.

Wren propped his head against the arm of the couch and stared at the black ceiling. The window was still letting in a soft pale light from the ally, faintly illuminating the couch and coffee table despite the sheer black of the power outage engulfing most of the apartment. Leaves skittered into the ally, ushering the smell of autumn into the apartment and breaking Wrens thoughts. He loved the smell of fall, something about the crispness of the air and the slight aroma of rain.

Wren touched his hand to his thick brown curls and sighed, seven years shouldn’t seem like it was that long ago.