Wake, feed, burp, change.
She sleeps again, small breaths warming my neck.
Wake, feed, burp, change.
She cries; loud and angry wails.
Wake, feed, burp, change.
We go out, finally, and I’m always surprised that the world carries on, as if to mock the broken record of our banal existence.
Laura Besley writes short fiction in the precious moments that her children are asleep. Her fiction has appeared online, in print and in various anthologies. She tweets at @laurabesley.