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"Playing with Angels"
- Marcus?
Don't make such a mess, honey.
- It wasn't me, it was Dad!
- Hurry up now, you don't want to be late.
- Would you like an apple?
- Marcus! Come along now.
- Hey, does everyone have to perform at that stupid show?
- Yes -
- but you may perform with someone from home if you'd like.
- With our dads for example?
- Absolutely.
- YES!!
- But you may of course bring your mums instead.
Marcus, maybe you want to play the violin as you've done before?
Remember to figure out what your performances will be!
We'll have a rehearsal next week.
- Stop it! I'll tell my dad.
- But he is dead.
- What are you doing?!
- Having a pillow fight, obviously!
- Go to bed now, sweetheart.
- Now it's time to say goodnight -
- Are there angels here though not in sight? -
- Will we still be walking when we die? -
- Or will we grow angel wings so we can fly? -
Mum?
Do you believe we'll go to heaven when we die?
- I don't know, Marcus...
- But dad says it's nice there!
But he doesn't wear his wings all the time -
- he only uses them when he comes to visit us.
- Stop that nonsense.
- Mum?
Will you play the piano with us?
Please? We have to perform at the show, remember?
- But Marcus, I...
I think you'll have to perform something else.
Ta-da!
- Thank you, Marcus.
I'm sure that will make a...uh...nice performance.
(Brad, now it's your turn to rehearse).
Won't you rather play the violin with mum?
- She doesn't want to play the piano anymore.
- Do you think it will help if you play for her?
- Mum?
You will be happy if dad and I play for you, right?
- Marcus...
We'll have to manage without daddy now.
- You're up next. Are you ready?