Waiting for my little baby...

3/04/2024 ☆⌒ 12.15pm

The sun is growing colder each day, the sky fading to a murky grey. The warmth I so took for granted, even complained about, has left me shivering against my little electric heater wrapped in a thick blanket. I can feel my son pressing his chubby feet against my ribs; I imagine how warm he must be, carelessly sleeping inside of my womb, sucking his thumb and dreaming of the world to come. As if he could even begin to imagine the world that God has prepared for him - so full of wonder - but his world is so so small. My boyfriend is working outside in the dying sun cleaning engine oil; he says wants me to make lunch but the fridge has nothing but some milk and butter. I'm going to walk down to the local store - the only store in our entire town - but she is rarely ever open anymore, and on the rare occasion the doors aren't shut the whole town comes to sit and eat in the old brick building together and talk. Me and my boyfriend are the youngest people in the town, pretty much surrounded by boomers living out their retirement on the block of farm land they worked their whole life to buy, and we are somewhat of an anomaly to them. Soon, our little baby boy will be the newest member of the village, and probably the first person to be born here in 40 years. But for now, I sit and wait for him in our quiet living room, my cold fingers tapping away at the keyboard.