Number nine totters over to the mass of flesh, a bundle securely tucked under his arm. The bodies are tightly wedged together, with barely an inch of space between them. The eighth figure is hanging out like a tail; head snuggled between two teammates, and arms reaching around to grapple their hairy buttocks.

The two biggest prop up the rest, wrapped tightly against the one who is playing the hooker. Johnny taps his bundle against the nearest shoulder.

He hates it when Mummy and Daddy have their special sleepovers.

“Daddy! Teddy wet my bed again. Can we sleep in here?”

Nav Logan
Nav is an Irish writer who spent much of his adult life as a new-age traveller. This has given him a rich tapestry of experience to draw from when he writes.
Find out more about Nav and his writing here.

Read the next drabble – Natural Fool