When we are young, the transition from a crawling baby to a scampering child does not come without disaster. There is a certain inevitability about the fact we shall and do fall many times. And, that after it being witnessed by our parents once or twice, it will no longer hold the same fear. There […]
The baby rested in her palms like a leaf all crinkled and curling. It slowly unfurled, then sniffed like a teen after a dirty joke. "Sounds grown up already," I said. "He's seventy." "Years?" "Minutes, idiot!" She laughed and walked away. How'd I know, I'd never seen a baby mouse?