Short Story – Again

It’s just you and me now.

I boomerang the words towards the bright blue sky, and they fall back down like a golden shower onto baby’s crown. We have been together, on and off, for 2 years. And the intense devotion I feel for her is reciprocated through gurgles and giggles and trusting eye winks.

She pokes me with her forefingers. She points at our home.

Yes, I beam. Our new home. We are together forever this time.

Baby resting on hip, I survey our temporary accommodation. We have inherited an overgrown green mess, barely passing for a garden. She begins to wriggle, signalling a desire to be put down. I sense I shouldn’t put her down. I sense if I do, something bad will happen. I get muddled.

The phase passes and I release her into the grass jungle. I spy her leading an expedition of ants. She crawls over worm holes and chews on petals. A wide grin reflects her happiness amongst the flowers and plants. And my expanding heart pushes up against my chest.

Then there is that noise again. The sirens. There are those people again. The authorities. The sky is overcast. I scramble baby into my arms.

What has she eaten? Who is responsible? they bark.

The garden is my babysitter. It is full of hidden treasures. The thoughts jump out before I can catch them. I am muddled.

Dangerous. Irresponsible. Take her away.

My heart shatters.

Time apart. Again.

Dedicated to Trisha Traughber’s Vagabond English Book Club.

Photo by Jenna Christina on Unsplash