Hunkering down on our bit of rubble as the coronavirus earthquake erupted, I might have predicted a regular picking up the pieces of Isaac and putting him back together
I believe I’m excelling as a member of Isaac’s exclusive (he’s the founder) 05:54 club; sure, it’s a tough time of day, but it’s getting less of tough call.
When I sit and succumb, the hover of the real world for Isaac can be ear splitting. Turning twelve will only turn up the heat. Puberty and emerging adulthood,
“Tabitha doesn’t have autism, so what does she have?” observed Isaac recently from nowhere. It was an example of him instantly speaking what was crossing his complex mind, on
“I’m carrying on colouring in, Isaac’s doing train because he’s got in the blue zone,” observed Tabitha a tad timidly. “This train terminates at Stanmore, please alight here, to
Now that I no longer lie wide awake with worry about Isaac and his autism, I feel able to dabble in the thinnest of dreams. A notch-above-zero tolerance to
“It’s seven zero one and cousin Louis was meant to arrive at my house at seven zero, zero,” projected Isaac, ruffled at this familial sloppiness. So often, he’s as
The atmosphere Isaac generates can be an intense one, engulfed as he is with his enhanced emotions. There’s a constant radiation of feeling, as immediate and in-your-face as the
People. Isaac so often relishes them, yet so rarely relates to them. It’s one of the crueller features ascribed his autism. A skills shortage in handling that pesky, unpredictable
