Don't Drink Bees

A baby is born into the house of a mother and father who are unable to communicate with one another. But his parents are well-meaning, so what could be the harm?

Find out in my short story, Necessary Distraction.

I may be just a baby, but I can sense that something is wrong. My parents don't talk to each other in a normal way.

They may say "Isn't he cute?" and "Did you see the face he made?" But I seem to be a distraction in the room - like the television.

They look at me instead of at each other. They may speak to one another about me - but they don't discuss any other topics.

I feel a pressure to entertain them. It seems to be what they want. They look at me eagerly for a distraction. Something to help them forget that there is a problem in their own lives. I give them a goofy smile, and they laugh. I've done my job well. They forget their pain for a moment.

But when I sleep, I dream about their sad faces. I sense their loneliness. My parents want to reach out to each other. They need to share their thoughts and feelings with someone, but they don't know how.

My parents wait for me to awaken, so I can make another funny face. They'll laugh and they'll forget their unhappiness again.

It is a lot of pressure for one so small who cannot even crawl, but I do my best to entertain them. I want my parents to be happy. I love them.

-excerpt from Necessary Distraction