Floating, eating lunch

He knows this feeling, felt it once before. He was seven, and he and Sylvia and Bea had gone to Mr Flood's bach for Christmas. He woke and had no idea where he was. Outside a southerly was rustling the trees and sea. Like wrapping paper. Inside he was floating on a bed, secure and lost. Lost but secure. A person can be two opposite things at once! And now what is he? Janine holds out her hand. Do you want my apple? He cannot hear the screaming, laughing, tackling sounds of school lunch hour. He bites.