The next few days saw the coming of rain pounding the window pane and the cold lessened to bareable. I had been exercising laps, racing the beam faces, jumping, rolling and twirling at every beam end before turning and going again, working out each limb and trying to pump up muscle. Dad said that's just how we was, all sticky legs and fat bum with smart heads, but he had muscled legs and the energy I spent trying to pump mine up aided in keeping me warmer. I had been punching out my arms that day when I almost belted Niddlo or Patty right in the face. They were both stood there at the end of our joist beam, neither bug distinct from the other.

"Ay, just come to let ya knor we're going, like."

"To this Radiator. Get some heat back in the legs, like."

"Ay, so we've come to say good bye, like. Ya knor."

"But there's only you two and us left!"

"It's ar'time t'go. "

"There's no point staying, like."

"But, Niddlo! Patty!?"

"We've come t'ask a favour."

"As a mate, like."

"Ya'couldn't hoist us down to the floor could ya?"

"It's a long way down t'climb."

"And ya Dad's out, so thought we'd make a run f'r'it."

It was with a heavy heart I said Goodbye to the very last of my long time friends, lowering them up to the looming depths of the room above. Once they'd made it all the way up to the floor, I saw the movement of waving before they scurried away. But it wasn't the last time I'd see them.

By dinner time I was unwrapping my food packet to discover Niddlo or Patty, while Dad tucked into the other. All of my left eyes twitched, as I seethed over at Dad, glaring as he the paper wrapping before pulling himself off a 'Niddlo or Patty' limb to squeeze out its juices.

"Did you know Niddlo and Patty left today?"

"Yes, I heard," Dad replied with nonchalance, tucking into his dinner. The first dinner I'd seen him eat in a very long time.
"Who told you? There was only us and them left?"

"We sort of ran into eachother earlier. I said Good Bye to them and then they said their Goodbyes ...and then they left."

"...do you think they'll make it to The Radiator?"

Dad had lifted Niddlo or Patty up to drink from the neck, tipping the juices upon his lips, but he turned his eyes to see me glaring at him, and he lowered Niddlo or Patty after a few gulps to stare shiftily at me.

"I'm sure they will, Son. There's always a possibility other Bugs will eat them, but if you believe then I believe."

Stretching out a comforting arm Dad pat me on the head, posing another question.

"Why hasn't our food got any heads?"

I watched a variety of outter expressions flit across Dad's face as he wracked his brain to provide an answer.

"Sometimes, Eiguh-Ht, the skull is the heaviest part to carry. I had two food packets to hoist upon my back and travel back with. I thought of the ease of having them already opened for when I got back, clogging them up with scrutched paper to keep the insides fresh. It was a matter of travelling light."

I had never been so angry with Dad in my entire life. But I was hungry, starving. And to make an issue of it meant I'd have to face the situation of what I was about to eat. So sighing out my frustration, I ignorantly lifted my warm Niddlo or Patty and started to drink. I justified my actions as having never expected to have seen them again to know their outcomes, good or bad. Food was now incredibly rare, and it could've just as easily been another pair of bugs that looked just like them from the neck down.
We tucked into our dinner for the evening. Me: respectful and quiet, Dad: chamming and joyous.

"I thoroughly enjoyed that," Dad said once finished, !icking all remants of juice from his furry lips and clapping his arm-tips together gleefully, "I'm going to do a spot of reading before night fall. I'll be glad to put my feet up."