Giving Birth

Giving Birth

Ron Koppelberger

She danced near the flames of a desire that overwhelmed her soul, in passion and artful balance. The swell of her stomach complimented the rosy hue on her cheeks. She was perfectly pregnant and wonting a sagacious fry cook named Petulant Samaritan. The sky was dark and dotted with the dreams of a thousand thousand, bleeding indigo and fire, caste by the secrets of generations in pass. She danced and the fry cook rubbed the palm of his hand anxiously, she would give birth tonight he thought as he appraised her shining fervency.
She lay on the blanket that was stretched out over the small patch of dandelion weed and prepared to bring her child into the world. The fry cook positioned himself near her legs and waited for the contractions to begin, a moment later she grunted and her labor began.
Hours later Petulant stared at the child he had wrapped in his white cotton shirt. He was amazing and savage both, he had two rows of sharp jutting teeth and a bulbous forehead. Petulant brushed the tiny sliver locks from the child’s eyes and the woman cooed in affectionate wonder at her infant. She looked at the fry cook then the baby. The baby growled and bit a chunk of flesh from Petulants’ arm. He screamed in sudden realization.
He had met the Fairy in the copse behind his house and he hadn’t realized what her designs would be until the child began to devour him, by then it was too late. His lifeblood seeped into the forest carpet and dotted the dandelions as the creature tore him to shreds. The Fairy looked at her child and whispered, “Innocent child of mine you have eaten your father, what shall I do?” The baby giggled and burped as she smiled lovingly at him.
The shadows abated at dawn and the Dandelions trampled yet alive with the will of magic regained their balance with the forest as mother and son made their way into the mystery that was the Secret Wood.