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It was a sunny, lazy afternoon, and Sunny was laying on one of his parents' laps while the other's drone body was perched nearby. His sister was inside, resting after a procedure, and while she slept better when he wasn't around, none of them had the heart to be doing things out in public. Instead, they sat in the sun, quietly recharging in multiple senses with Sunny's head in his parent's lap as the little xero stared at the swirling, clear motes in the sky th...

Sunny bounced in place as the census-taker sat across from him, waiting for the next question as the grownup wrote something-or-another about what he'd said, and possibly notes on whatever it was that grownups liked to decided that meant. Like from last month, after talking with a whole bunch of xeros, the people who had taken the survey had looked at the information and had said that Xeros liked to stand mostly, which meant that Sunny had been working hard to walk on all fours some...

The first sensations that Sunny became aware of were of the soft, rhythmic tapping of a ceiling fan's chain as it rocked back and forth from the spinning of the blades. While his eyes were closed, the sound grounded him, offering context to where he was-- the only fan in his family's home that was weighted by beads was the one in his sister's bedroom. With sunlight spilling into the window from a low angle, the fan cast swirling arcs of shadow across the painted stone above, marred only by th...