u/bull_and_scones

he died anyways

"No, darling, I wasn't going to eat them - I already sucked the chocolate off."

The next moment, my helicopter crashed into the firmament.

"Thpeak for yourthelf", said my stinky wife

1)

On the riverbank stood a woman all dressed in blue - and next to her, a young girl.

The river was slow, quiet, shallow and clear. Clouds covered the entire sky, but the sun shone through the clouds as if through a stained-glass window.

A small wicker basket came floating down the river, rocking gently back and forth amidst the current. The woman motioned silently to the girl, who lifted her skirts and stepped into the river. After having caught the basket, the girl waded back to shore, lifted the basket out of the water and raised it towards the woman. The woman took the basket in her arms, walked a few paces away from the riverbank, gently set the basket down on the ground and eagerly opened the lid. Inside the basket was a baby.

The two of them sat and looked at the baby. All three were silent - one sleeping soundly in his little basket, and two quietly looking on. Finally, the woman spoke.

"He's so beautiful. Look at his little nose."

"You think they're all beautiful."

The woman laughed. "Yes."

2)

"Hold his head up, dearest - he can't hold it up himself yet."

"I'm trying to, but he's so floppy."

"You're doing very well. Keep patting his back."

After a long nap, the baby had begun to stretch and yawn. He had slept for over two hours, snoring away on the young girl's chest as she lay curled up under a tree. The tree was tall and broad with bright green leaves, and amidst the leaves were fruits of all different shapes and sizes and colors, all perfectly plump and perfectly spotless. The woman plucked a deep purple fruit from the tree, and took a bite.

The girl turned her head. "Is that one of the purple ones?"

"Yes, it is. It tastes like a fig."

"What does a fig taste like?"

"Figs are sweet and earthy - more juicy than dates."

"I don't mean to complain, but I wish I could have tasted figs or dates."

The woman finished the last bite of fruit and wiped her mouth. "I understand what you mean."

"The fruits do taste good here." The girl looked up from the baby and let her eyes trail along the river, along the direction of the current. Far off in the distance, there were mountains that seemed to break through the clouds and touch the sky.

"They do - much better than they ever did back there. There aren't any wasps around here to eat holes in the fruit, and nothing ever goes rotten."

The sun hung motionless, shining directly above the woman and the girl and the baby. In the two hours that the baby had been napping, the sun had not moved an inch. There were no birds in the sky to chirp or sing, but from behind the mountains came a quiet chorus of ethereal notes.

3)

"Do you think he'll make lots of friends here?"

"Yes, I think so."

As the woman and the girl walked alongside the river towards the mountains, the woman held the baby to her chest and ran her fingers through his hair.

"He can't talk yet."

"He'll learn. He's got plenty of time."

"Do you think he knows how he got here?"

The woman looked away, staring off into the distance. "No, I don't think so. He was very small when he came."

"Did it hurt when he came here?"

The woman was silent for a long time, looking down at the baby. Finally, she spoke. "If it did hurt, it likely didn't hurt for very long. He's safe now. He'll be safe forever."

"Do you think his mother misses him?"

"Yes."

4)

Stopping to rest under another iridescent fruit tree, the girl looked back at the river. Along the shore were dozens of other little baskets - all small, all covered, each one sturdily crafted from grasses or rushes or willows or reeds. Above the river and the baskets were little dots of light, glowing and floating like fireflies.

The girl gestured out at the river and furrowed her brow. "There are so many of them."

The woman put her hand on the girl's shoulder and smiled. "We have plenty of time."

"Are you going to try and get them all?"

"Yes. They're safe in the river, but they can't see anything in their baskets. They need to be taken out of the river and fed and cared for, until their eyes are strong enough to see the sun."

As the woman spoke, the sun began to break through the clouds. The woman took a bonnet from her robes and fastened it securely on the baby's head, shading his face from the sunlight. One of the baby's hands reached up and touched the bonnet, then fell back down on the woman's chest.

The girl looked up at the woman, then down at the baby, then up at the woman again. "Will his mother come soon to look after him?"

"Perhaps she'll come soon, perhaps later. When she does come, she'll be so glad to see him."

"Do their mothers always come eventually?"

"I hope so. Sometimes it takes a while."

"Is it possible that his mother won't come for him?"

As the sunlight flowed across the baby's bonnet, the woman gazed into his eyes and ran her finger down his cheek. "I think she'll come. We'll take good care of him until she does. He'll be so happy to see her."

5)

"Are you going to be his mother here, too, like you were mine?"

The woman smiled. "Yes."

As the woman and the girl made their way up the mountains, the sun shone above the mountain tops and through the now-scattered clouds. From across the mountains came the ethereal music, louder and clearer - and the voices of countless men and women, young and old, singing and working and laughing and talking.

The girl spoke again. "I could talk when I first came here. Do you remember? I was older than him. He can't talk."

"Yes, I do remember. You talked quite a bit - you were quite a bit older. He'll be able to talk soon, too."

"I remember when I first saw you."

"I remember that day, too."

"I asked you if you were an angel."

The woman laughed. "Yes, you did."

The baby stirred on the woman's chest, yawned, then moved to lay his head down so that he was facing in the opposite direction. As the baby's head turned, the sun shone in his eyes, and he squinted and began to cry. The woman adjusted the baby's bonnet so that it shaded his eyes again, patted his back, and began to whisper gently in his ear.

"There, there, little one - no need to cry. No need to cry here. You are safe here - safe in my arms, safe in this place, safe forever. No need to be afraid. Am I not here, little one - I, who am your mother?"

Over the past month or so, I've found a few roaches in the house I'm renting. This is a first for me - I've never had any roaches in places that I've rented before, but this is also my first spring in Davis.

Landlord mentioned that we had a very wet spring this year, and that wetness is contributing to the roach population - is anyone else experiencing this, and if so, do you have any good solutions for getting rid of the little guys? I don't need more roommates right now, especially tiny dirty roommates that don't pay rent.

Title basically says it all.

It was the early 2020s during COVID. I was in the office five days a week - not because my boss told me I had to, but because the air conditioning was broken at my apartment.

My tummy and I felt sorry for the downtown fast food restaurants, so I tried to visit them often. I liked Subway a lot - before their footlongs cost an arm and a leg - so I decided to go there and get a footlong sub.

I usually ordered subs with all the stuff on it, but was bored that day and decided to order a grilled cheese.

The Subway employee stared at me for a moment, and then made me a toasted sub with cheese and nothing else.

I ate the grilled cheese sub sandwich. The Subway was quiet - I was the only one there aside from the Subway employee. I finished my sandwich and left in silence.

I haven't been back. I think that particular Subway is closed now. I haven't gone back to Subway in years.

Growing up, I was a voracious reader. I used to stay up late reading novels and encyclopedias - reading came easy to me and I would read when I was bored, tired, hungry, or whenever else I wanted to.

Nowadays, I rarely start and never finish books. If I stay up late looking at anything, it's my phone - I can make it through an essay or a long Facebook post, but I just can't force myself to read anything substantial even when the circumstances are perfect.

It's probably an age (over 30) or parent (of a toddler) thing - I'm tired a lot... but even when I have the energy, I'd still rather just play Civ V, take my Prozac, sit on my phone for a while and then pass out.

I miss being a child; I miss being able to immerse myself in a good book. How can I re-teach myself to love to read?

My wife and I just found out that we are expecting another baby, and - although we're excited and happy for our new little one, we're also worried about the near future. We didn't plan on getting pregnant this soon and my wife's first pregnancy was really rough - she bled a lot and needed stitches in the OR after our first baby was born.

Prayers for my baby's life, my wife's health, and our marriage. Anything helps.