On Being Here

On Being Here

Is this world not enough?

We sat across the kitchen table, Annika and I.

Ja, Geliebte, said Anni.

Ja, Geliebter, I replied.

We had sort of fought in the morning. And the practicalities of having a young child and needing to work meant that this was the first time since then that we had the time to speak about it.

We talked a little of the day. We exchanged stories of Rahi, of little things he had done and said through the day. We imitated his voice, the sounds he makes. We laughed together, one recollection inspiring the next.

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