Terminal
I walked up to a very pregnant lady at the airport. “Pregnant lady, you need to hurry up and have that kid,” I said.
She smiled and pointed to her stomach. “He’s trying to get out, but I won’t let him.” She wasn’t smiling anymore.
“Pregnant lady, you need to cut the cord.” I wasn’t smiling either.
“If I let him out, the world will swallow him.” She was sure of this.
“The second his sperm fertilized your egg you began to lose him,” I said. “The sooner you let go the easier it will get.”
“He will stay. That is final.”
She walked away, not noticing that while we were talking, she gave birth. The baby dragged behind her on the floor, sliding silently on the waxed tile, the umbilical cord the only thing connecting them.
