Time's Mouth

It was uglier than any place she’d ever been, but the ugliness was also a comfort because it meant that she and Ray had said goodbye to their old lives.

Ursa refused. “It should only be me if absolutely necessary.” Another rule.

The eastern wing wasn’t high above, it was rooted to the ground, its beauty a secret. It was an underestimated place, and that’s what made it spectacular.

The baby was sleeping on her belly with her bottom in the air, her arms curled into herself, a little loaf of bread. Nothing was wrong. Opal was perfect.

Taking care of children requires being tethered to the present, to an endless parade of daily tasks, to the now.

A child required something beyond mere presence and attention. What Opal needed, Cherry decided, was more complicated than a clean diaper or a lullaby. Her needs went deeper, unfathomably deeper, because that’s what a child was: a vast network of unending and connected needs. A child needed to take you for granted. They needed you to be there in th

YEARS PASSED, TIME’S ACCRUAL AT ONCE GRADUAL AND sudden.

She thought she’d never be so happy again, and she was right.

Her breath is a dead animal, and she has no idea, and she wouldn’t care if she did because she is in labor and thus beyond shame.