I have a story in the Chicago Review. The issue is available now for purchase over HERE.
My story is called, "The Baby" and here is an excerpt:
The second and third times I hold the baby I’m still not afraid. I try different ways to hold him. I try to
see what works best. Some sort of
agreement between us. A way we can be
together in a system that satisfies us both.
I try very hard but he’s always changing his mind.
I sit with him on my thighs when nobody is paying
attention. I want to take off all of his
clothes. I want him naked. I lean in to him and whisper, “Last summer I
fucked the gardener.” I sit back up and
lean down again, “We fucked sixteen times.”
The baby waves his fists around like a crazy man. I am not sure what that means.
After a while the baby starts fussing and my husband comes
over and asks what I did to him. I say,
It's a tale about obsession, I think. The word "baby" is in it 100 times.