--I WAS IN THE RIGHT PLACE, BUT IT MUST HAVE BEEN THE WRONG TIME
...If I never hear "Brave" or "Roar" again in my life, that will be a good thing.
...Here's something I wrote a while back:
There was something wrong with the
baby. Sunlight could kill it. My wife blamed herself, thinking it was
payback from all the drugs she took in college.
When I said, “That’s crazy talk,” she reached up and slapped me.
The baby had my nose already, but
her forehead. It looked like a normal
newborn, squished and rashy.
Doctors said it was an extremely
rare condition. One said there were ways
around it. Another, “Things could be
worse.”
The baby’s mother and I fought about
how to proceed, fought so much that we didn’t seem married anymore.
And then we weren’t.
Whenever I visited after that, there
were always other women in the house.
They wore old-fashioned capes and matching bonnets, never smiled or
spoke.
My wife thought the child possessed,
maybe even a vampire. Canisters with
burning incense tossed off a bonfire smell.
I hired a lawyer. I called the county. They all said the same thing—everyone rears a
child differently.
So I gave up, made her happy, and
moved to a country near the equator. I
found a new woman and got married. Every
day of the year we have sun, abundant sunshine, but no kids.
No comments:
Post a Comment