Tim & Allen

The matching outfits were… ambitious. Two grey blobs, distinguished only by size, moved down the street like slightly mismatched bookends. The older brother, Tim, maybe sixteen, a study in teenaged nonchalance, wore his grey sweatshirt like a uniform of indifference, his short sweatpants revealing surprisingly muscular legs. The younger one, Allen, no more than ten, though, looked absolutely thrilled with the coordinated ensemble. His grey sweatshirt, a little too big, swallowed his small frame, and his short sweatpants, even shorter on him, almost gave the impression he was wearing shorts two sizes too large. They held hands, a comical juxtaposition of teenaged cool and childhood enthusiasm. The high school boy likely only agreed to this for his mother's benefit, but the younger one? He was living his best matching-brother life. You could almost hear the comfortable silence between them, punctuated only by the rhythm of their sneakers and the distant laughter of other kids playing.