The Day After

Because sometimes writing about parenting isn't enough:


“Did you hear?” She asked, cozying up to her cup of coffee. “About the…”

“I know,” the voice from across the bistro table replied, shaking her head in disbelief, eyes practiced to look disappointed and sympathetic with a hidden glint of hopefulness. “It’s horrible.”

Both stir their coffee not sure of where to go from here. Talk about the unseasonable weather? The new engagement announced on Facebook? The upcoming baby shower? The good news of their families? The bad news that withers in comparison? The spoons churn the sugar and milk and brew, waiting for it all to come together.

They sip and stare, fully realizing that the coffee tastes too sweet, too warm, too comforting for the moment.

“Something must be done” the first one adds, part as a way to punctuate the grief, part as a way to move past it. They finish their warm beverages and leave the café.

And then.

            And then.

                        And then. 

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