Flash back: a baby screams across the hall. Knock.
Knock, knock. It's father stone-faced towards the crib.
Don't touch. Do nothing. A non-action: flee.
Tales of furious fights. The child, un-held,
continues to cry, as planned.
-but the paper is on fire - but the fire is a mid-range paper supply company with a cheesy pita in the toaster oven - but the cheesy pita is my nostalgia and the toaster oven is an algorithm that can configure an approximation of my future personality with greater accuracy than I can
Then she stood, her eyes watery and luminous, one hand on her stomach
and I stood with her, unsteady, my muscles remembering, my memory remembering,
Once in awhile all one needs is a pause, then a thank you.