Two men are led to a prominent, well-lit
table underneath an elk’s head.
One carries an impossibly large
infant three times normal size.
I know him. It’s not his child. He
drops it on the thick, lacquered
table with a thud. Flash to
the man now shirtless, picking
up the baby, cradling it to his chest.
It balances on his corpulent belly,
squirming and gurgling close to
his breast. It’s suckling. Like
a tea kettle’s whistle, I
explode. I pound my fist,
rattling dishes and glass.
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