Hundred and Sixteen

SHELLY.

By dawn, he left the house like a creeping insect afraid to be preyed on by evil birds.

The baby is awake, his beautiful sea-blue eyes on me and his chubby cheeks a delight to see. When his long eyelashes flickered, and he took in the environment, I can't forget the surprise in his eyes, and then came extra surprises as he sees the same face he dreaded.

“Sheesh...” I whisper, reciting a cool poem aloud. "I'm not a monster, would you relax for once?” I puff, worn out.

Right now, his cheeks deepen and his lips pout, taking the perfect position of a crybaby. Suspecting it's going to be a heavy downpour, I rush to his side.

“Hey, baby boy...” I clink my tongue to make noises that babies love, at least Petian loves it. And she smiles back at me.

I continue the ritual of flicking his cheeks and singing, but it's futile as tears begin to let down, damning my efforts more as it rolls effortlessly.

Moon!

I scoop him in my arms and begin to dance the dance of every mother, and i