The letter came one morning as Paul was feeding the baby. He was still only half-dressed. Wearing most of his clothes, one unlaced shoe. “Oh no,” he said. “No way.”
The baby hammered her feet, made demanding noises.
Paul read the letter twice, and it said the same thing both times.
“I can’t,” he told the baby, because there was nobody else there to speak to. “There’s just no way.”
This is an excerpt from my new short story, Backstreet Nursery, published in the April 2022 edition of Short Fiction 8. You can read it on their website here.