Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Look At Me

Blonde Redhead - Publisher

They sit on the train, his arm draped over her shoulders, her hand gently resting on her expanding belly.

A young child is sitting a few seats away. She waves at the little boy, he waves back. The pregnancy has made her desperately want to be liked by children. She makes silly faces, the boy smiles.

The kid spills a cup of juice when the train turns. "WHY?" The boy's mother screams. "Pick it up!" she barks.

The couple shake their heads in disapproval, as good citizens usually do before looking the other way. The child drops the cup again. The mother grows irate.

The man pulls his wife closer to him.

Geez, he huffs.

Yeah, she whispers.

Suddenly a childhood memory hits them, the kind they'd like to forget. The time his stepfather called him stupid, that one afternoon her mother forgot to pick her up from dance practice. And they mourn a little.
She still isn't sure she even wants kids.

He takes her hand, squeezing it until her wedding band uncomfortably digs into his skin. There they sit, afraid of what they will become.

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