Thursday, March 22, 2007
The Child
You know I love you, honey, but I just have to tell you. I don't think the kid looks much like me. Please don't cry. No, of course not. I'm not accusing you of anything. It's just that... I've been thinking lately. You remember what it was like, the year before he was born. You were out of it most of the time, what with all the wine and the medication. But I know you remember that electrical storm and those lights in the sky. I still say we watched from the upstairs window. I'll be hanged how we woke up the next day in the middle of the field. It just doesn't make sense. I had those marks all over my body, and you... You had him. Or he had you. That's it, you know. He had you. I mean, look at how he's looking at you right now.
Honey? You're not listening to me...
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