Jan 23, 2009 11:51
He’s never liked children, never quite known what to do with them. They are small and fragile, loud when they should be quiet and rambunctious when they should be still. And worst of all, they stink when they should smell good, and inevitably come with a screeching mother, who is worse than all the rest combined.
When the nurse puts the small, squalling bundle in his arms for the first time, he knows… that he still doesn’t like them. His stomach rumbles, and he wonders if his wife will allow him to eat the baby, citing it’s a troll’s way?
writing,
drabble