It has been days. Days! It is too quiet here...and I will go mad if that cat sits on me one more time! Gah!
At least it is sunny in this room. I hate waiting, but at least I can see.
How can she keep me waiting like this? I am an important book! She is expecting, and I am all about that. It's my title, for gosh sakes! This woman needs to know what is written on my pages before the baby comes. She started to read me, and then she stopped, called someone on the phone and...and then left me here. It's been days!
Why didn't she take me with her?
I have been here, page marked, waiting.
I've been waiting for her to open me again. Days!
There is dust all over my cover now! And pthfft--cat hair.
Where has she been?
What is that noise? Are they home? Is someone coming up the stairs? Is it her?
No!
Who are those people? What happened? I don't understand. What are they doing with that box?
Wait! No!
No! I don't
want to go into the box!
I am a happy book about expecting babies! I
don't belong in a box! I belong next to a crib!
No! Please!
What did I do wrong?
I'm just a book! Don't put me into that box! Put me on a shelf! I'll do anything!
Please!
Nooooooooo!
Yeah, this is sort of a buzzkill, but it's the very first thing that popped into my head for this prompt, and I am on a mission not to over-think. For context, after I had my miscarriage, my parents came over to the house while I was in ICU and removed anything and everything that had anything to do with Zoe and put it all away, including all of the pregnancy books. I still can't even look at the title of this particular well-known book without feeling a little sick, and it's going on ten years.
Heartbreaking, but I still love the piece!
ReplyDeleteSo sad. My sister-in-law struggled to conceive and once she did, she miscarried twice. I felt like scouring her place for land mines like this. :-/ I think this is my first visit to your site, so I'm not sure if you ever ended up having children (I'll go back and read), but I hope so. And I hope seeing that book won't sting forever.
ReplyDeleteLoved this piece. I've been through one miscarriage so I could relate to seeing baby things that make it sting a little. This was unique and heartfelt.
ReplyDeleteOh how brave of you to write it! It's nota buzzkill at all... Love the 'phfffth cat hair'... The disgust and impatience shines through with that, and the desperation of being boxed -- disappointment and frantic dismay comes through very well.
ReplyDelete:( I can connect with this. I feel the frantic-ness (that is a word now, btw) that the book is feeling. Confusion... I can understand wanting to hide away anything that has to do with it. I still stare sadly/angrily at the stupid drawer in my bathroom where I hid the positive pregnancy test before I told my husband. Ugh.
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing <3
As usual, I love what you have written.
ReplyDeleteWow...very sad.
ReplyDeleteIt's beautifully emotional, just as it should be.
ReplyDelete