PARENTHOOD POEM SERIES
Independent Short Stories
Leila had a six month old. The thing is, when you have a little baby, you can fall asleep anywhere. She’d nod off and wake up on the couch, in the nursing chair, in front of the television. Peter said he fell asleep at his desk in the office – sort of propped up to look like he was still working. Nobody noticed. She chuckled to herself at the thought.
They couldn’t wait till Jacob could sleep through the night.
She jerked awake. Where was she? She could feel her seat swaying and she could hear the slurp of the sea against the hull. The lights were dim. A dozen other passengers were snoozing in their seats.
“Ma’am?” a young man was talking to her.
“Peter?” she said, confused.
“No ma’am. I’m Sandro. We’ll be pulling in shortly.”
“Pulling in?” she blinked.
“To the island - Santorini. It’s almost 11 o’clock.”
“Oh. Where’s Jacob?”
“Jacob?” The man asked.
The man smiled and his teeth were straight and even.
“I think your baby’s all grown up now,” he said softly. “Ah, here we are. Your hotel is five star! You’ll be the envy of all your neighbours when you tell them.” He winked at her.
Leila turned and looked out the window. It was very dark and an old lady stared back at her.