Simon:

I don't know if you know what it is like to have a sister.

I don't know if I want to talk about it if you don't.

If you don't have one, then you have nothing to worry about and I shan't want to give you nightmirrors.

I am supposed to be a little boy.

They call me her little brother.

But if I am the only boy, then I can be any size I need to be.

And I soon will be, if I live.

Which brings me to a concern of mine, concerning my sister and her concerning behavior, concerning me and my lifespan concerns.

She has made a concerted effort to convince me that since our family has two children, if one of them, namely her, took the life of the the other one, namely you-know-who, then no court in the land would convict her because she would be needed to console our parents who would be then possessed of only one child, having made themselves unable to have children surgically after one look at me on my birthday.

She also says that if I call her a liar or prove her to be a liar, then that would be grounds for her to kill me, also, as she is a member of the gentler sex and I am born to turn into a bully or a husband at some point in my life, if I live to be at least twelve and I live in India with a green dot on my head.

I don't entirely believe everything she has told me, but I have it on good authority that she is almost a genius and why would a genius bother to lie to a subgenius like me?

Wouldn't it be a waste of her valuable time?

On the other hand, why is she talking to me at all, in the first place, if she has such a fancy brain that is cultible of so much more elegant usage than, um, yakking at me?

Is it possible for there to bored and silly smart people?

I must remember to email Bill Gates.

He might know.