Going Home

Going Home

I want to go home.

I want to go back, not forward.

It was warm in there. It was safe. It was quiet, the only sound the lapping of the waters and her

voice softly rising and falling somewhere up there, outside.

Now the waters have gone and it’s dark. There is squeezing and pushing. It starts, then stops,

then starts again.

What is this all for?

Now the squeezing has stopped. It is bright and cold. I close my eyes tight.

Her voice! It sounds different, louder.

I feel warm softness on my skin. It strokes my back up and down like waves. Her voice is


Now there is something even softer. I want it. I open my mouth like I used to do for the waters.

I did not know I could suck but my mouth does it for me.

Sweet milk rushes in.

This is what it was for.

I’m home.

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