On the eve of each full moon, the Elders meet.

“Betty and Jim,” the Chief says, her long earrings jangling, “are struggling. She’s too pale. He’s drinking too much. Someone needs to take them under their wing.”

I remember the pain of an empty cradle. “I’ll do it,” I say.

Laura Besley writes short fiction and squeezes her writing into the bookends of her day. She has lived in Holland, Germany, and Hong Kong, but now lives in land-locked central England and misses the sea. Her flash fiction collection, The Almost Mothers, was published in March 2020. She tweets at @laurabesley.