“Maybe we could adopt,” he said one night they were spooning in bed, and while she didn’t respond, her body remained soft and warm, nested inside his.

My desire to be heard, to be noticed, to be understood, produced in listeners the very opposite of its intended effect. 

But after the cake batter bowl broke on the floor, and the moon outside the window glared at her like an otherworldly stalker, Auntie Samantha started to doubt everything,

A baby. Afer all these years of me wanting one and him not wanting one, now he wants a baby. When finally I have lost the desire for one. Our children are seven and five. I don’t know that I can handle a newborn again. I’d thought we were in agreement on the adoption. I look out the window into the night. The trees are leafless and still. The sky must be cloudy because I can’t see any stars. Winter is upon us; the days are cold and sunless. I shiver, wondering if it’s my ski