The Fishing Moon
Lester stared at the thing on the floor. It was a fish fillet, possibly flounder, with a bonnet stapled to it. "What do you mean this is our child?" he asked his wife Bonnie.
"Well, after two hours of intense pain, I birthed this onto the comforter on our bed," she replied. "His name is Monroe De La Chancey." Bonnie stood, wiping fish oil from her thighs.
Lester tried not to breathe. The whole bedroom smelled like a seafood market. He decided right then, that he didn't want to know. Whatever it was, he definately didn't want to know. The world is always changing, he thought. Maybe this will change tomorrow.
"Well, after two hours of intense pain, I birthed this onto the comforter on our bed," she replied. "His name is Monroe De La Chancey." Bonnie stood, wiping fish oil from her thighs.
Lester tried not to breathe. The whole bedroom smelled like a seafood market. He decided right then, that he didn't want to know. Whatever it was, he definately didn't want to know. The world is always changing, he thought. Maybe this will change tomorrow.
posted by Michael at 10:10 PM
2 Comments:
i'm glad these are back, this post removed by author.
somehow I think this is nearly an entire story...a terrifying an unsettling story...
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