I can feel him move inside of me. I feel the brush of his fingertips tracing my vein and taking my pulse until it reaches the end of its path. Everything is still beating in a palpable, melodic rhythm. I’m still breathing.

Someday I’ll wish this never happened. I’ve thought it a few times. Just maybe not today. That mythical day has been drummed into my mind over and over in so many ways, from so many voices, it’s become one long drone of the same high pitched note my ear can no longer hear. Just another lost sigh carried away by the wind.