"Mornings before work, she performs the routine: validate the parking garage ticket at the front desk. Enter the dimly-lit ultrasound room. Clothes off, gown on, open in the back. Jelly on the wand, the wand inserted by the kind or peppy or indifferent nurse. The Wife’s reproductive system displayed on the screen, the doctor measuring follicles, pleased with her progress."Read More
"Ongoing nausea even three weeks after my return. Got so sick of my own company. Every time I looked up, a little golden bird flitted by, or an azure butterfly landed on my foot. After not having heard from him for all that time, a short note, a kind of affirming prayer. Very little to put in the journal, she wrote, as the days are all the same. Across the river, white herons followed the farmer around, lifting and flapping down again as he moved along the row."