The glow from the tv illuminated ten faces in shadowy light.
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Then, after it all, I was handed her. A baby girl. This tiny, purple, squashed, perfect little alien.
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I am infected with an alien. My body has become a treacherous landscape of nope. Within mere weeks the alien has taken command and turned all my senses traitor. My memories of food are full of pot holes and landslides and precarious roads that lead to a rather strong gag reflex unlike anything Iâve so far experienced.
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Changing a blown tire on a burning black bitumen road was not high on Timâs list of âshit I want to get done todayâ.
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Youâre late. Except youâre not that late so itâs okay. Itâs nothing to make a fuss over because everyone is late sometimes, right?
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A micro fiction about my experience snorkelling at Noumea.
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Yesterday I was married to the most perfect man I could ever have hoped to meet.
