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Show Motherlunge a novel 212 Xavier, his head newly emerged from his clothing began to scream too. Mouth like a megaphone, round eyes amplifying fear. He fought to get away from me as I held him on the bed. Remember: he hurt me. I was the one who deserved to cry. I was crying first! Nevertheless, I had to comfort Xavier and I did, saline pouring down my face. He hit and kicked me further, full of contempt for me as I held him, shushed him, let him pull on my earrings while I leered at him like a pirate with my one good eye. Gradually he calmed down. Xavier, my little changeling, my animal familiar; my minor defeat. Still, I wasn't done crying. I meant to get back to it later, once Xavier was down for his nap. My eye hurt like a mother. Also by then I knew that Pavia really had left me, and that I couldn't stop her or help her. How I looked forward to it, to that moment alone when I could cry for myself! But I never got around to it. I suppose I gave up on it. So back to our question: what about your hopes and dreams? Can you become whatever you want to become? I don't know. My advice: Don't be the person who won't try. But don't be the person who won't give up. |