she would sit and cry br for hours and I would br not offer a second of br pity for that was like br giving a junkie a br needle. br She would sit and br laugh for hours on br end alone in the dark br and I would remain br under my covers br with my radio firmly br cemented into my ears br I would not humour br her mania for that br would be like encouraging br a bad comedian. br It was only when she br would ask me how br my day was would br I sit beside her stroke br her hair and allow myself br to be her son.