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This is the last of it. It is the entirety of the story and everything is in there. It's not incomplete. Excuse the grammatical mistakes and shit, I'll fix them at some point.

http://www.virtualdali.com/assets/paintings/37MetamorphosisOfNarcissus.jpg

Used my own incomplete interpretation of the painting. Doesn't matter too much, but there it is in all it's wonder.

Part 2

I enter the house to find my mother sitting in the kitchen reading the same book on genetic conditions. "Mom, I'm home." I intone cheerfully.

"Welcome home honey." She says simply and without feeling.

I start to make myself a sandwich while Vanessa perches over mother's shoulder to see what she's reading. I search through the refrigerator for some Polony, pushing aside the many bottles of fruit chutney.

"Mom's reading about Sickle Cell again Sander." Vanessa tells me.

"How's the chutney business faring mom?" I ask, hoping to distract her.

Her reading doesn't skip a beat "Fine, got two new stores this week."

"Maybe you should go and help M'siswe to make the quota?" I suggest. My mother doesn't reply. "Has Miki been around yet? I told her I'd be home earlier."

"Who?"

"Mr. Miyazaki's daughter, remember?"

No reply. Without a further word I take my sandwich and school bag to my room down the hall. A desk under the window, a closet built into the wall and a bed. I hang my school blazer over the back of the chair and neatly fold my tie for tomorrow. I eat my sandwich on the bed. Vanessa leans her head against my shoulder as I finish my lunch in silence.

We lay back on the bed, Vanessa's white fingers curl around one of my half-moon horns. We stare at the poster pasted to the ceiling; a Salvatore Dhali. In it there is what looks like either two figures or two hands. One has a walnut head with weeds growing out of it and the other an egg head with a flower growing out of it, or if they're hands; one holds a walnut and the other an egg with their respective growths.

"No,' says Vanessa pointing up 'the one on the left is a body with a walnut head and weeds while the one on the left is a hand holding the egg with a flower growing out of it."

"And what's the symbolism?" I ask.

She giggles happily her lilting voice fills the room with glee "My silly brother, you should know what it means."

I scrutinize the poster "The figure with the walnut egg is us. We're sentient beings with thick hard heads and all we think and do are as weeds growing from us?"

She tugs on a horn in her non-judgemental humour continuing my thought "And the hand holding the egg with the flower symbolizes our potential if we were only to take a hold of our natures. The egg symbolizes our genesis and the flower symbolizes the good in us."

"And the confused crowd behind the walnut is the image of our fumbling.' I say 'While the chessboard with the triumphant statue on it symbolizes the control that we have the potential for?"

She laughs spilling her angelic delight into me. "My brother, the black wolf with satanic goat's horns; you're not really evil are you?"

"No." I say noting the sheer cliffs and the opposing open skies in the poster.

There's a knock on my door. "Hello?" I call but there's no response. I get up and open the door to find Miki with her paws clasped imperiously behind her back. She's wearing her usual long skirt and button shirt. Her black button eyes fix on me from her natural white and red Akita mask. Like her father, she is truly the clearest definition of Japanese canine.

"Do you intend to let me enter?" she asks severely.

"Yes, yes,' I say stepping back, bowing low and gesturing her in 'welcome to my room." A soft paw brushes affectionately over my head, my tail wags on its own. The natural perfume of her floats teasingly under my sensitive nose.

She seats herself on the edge of my bed, her lovely paws folded into each other on her lap. As pure and angelic as my sister is, so much is Miki the image of a Japanese princess; poised, polite and intelligent. Her red and white fur is as soft as her mannerisms can be hard.

Her back straight, she raises an inquisitive eyebrow at my shameless staring. "Sit." She says with the slight accent that she'd inherited from her parents. I place myself close to her as her eyes roam my room. Seeing my blazer and tie, the empty plate she asks "What were you doing?"

I raise a claw pointing to the roof "Figuring out the painting." I say simply.

She doesn't look at it "Ah yes, about the contrasting natures of our potentials versus the reality of our actions. Did you?"

"Did I what?"

"Did you figure it out?"

"Vanessa did and explained it to me." I say.

Slyness creeps into Miki's prettily slanted eyes "She seems to be your more intuitive half." I don't reply. The soft musk from her body hangs like a shroud around my head and I'm reminded of the warm spring ambience under the oaks where Vanessa and I had lost ourselves. Miki's scent draws me in and I close my eyes breathing deep and slow, taking her in.

One of her soft paws gently creeps around my neck, sliding under my one horn and places itself squarely on the side of my face. She loosens the top buttons of her dress and pulls my head down to her small breasts. The scent becomes overpowering as I pull it deep into my lungs. She lays back and I follow, lost in her essence there is no other option except acquiescence.

Her heart beats a rhythm in my ear as fragile as a butterfly's. My arm circles her waist pulling her into me as she slowly strokes my cheek and along my muzzle. This is the purest heaven that I can fathom, and I cannot fathom why it would be heaven.

"Sander,' she whispers into my ear, 'do you love me?"

If she weren't Miki then I would be surprised but I answer as honestly as I can "No, I don't think I love you Miki."

"What do you love Sander?"

I consider the question carefully, what do I love? I don't think I know what love is meant to be "I love Vanessa. And I love what you are Miki, but I do not think I love you."

I feel the nod of understanding in the contracting muscles of her neck on my head. "Do you love nothing other than Vanessa?"

"I don't think I could ever love anything as I love my sister."

A claw scratches my cheek playfully "Vanessa is more you than you are. She is the egg hatching the flower and you are the weeded walnut head."

Yes, I nod cupping her breasts in the crook of my arm. A warm fatigue settles over me and I close my eyes, listening to the beat of Miki's heart.

"Do you not share your mother's self inflicted misery Sander?"

The rhythm of her heart lowers me into peace "No, goats and wolves are unlikely to produce offspring. It's a miracle that we were born alive, a miracle that we were born twins, a miracle that we both lived. My mother could not have known and I wish she would forgive herself for Vanessa's sickness."

"Your mother is still reading that book."

"Miki."

"Yes Sander?"

"I think that I do love you. Like Vanessa, you are the other, better part of me." As I say this I know the truth of it. A new weight settles on the bed behind me and I feel Vanessa's paw lovingly stroking my thigh.

"Sander?"

"Yes Miki?"

"I wish I had known Vanessa."

"I wish Dhali had painted you; a second figure without the walnut. A figure with an egg head sprouting a flower."