In a Dream | Jennifer Juneau
A baby was dead at the bottom of a swimming pool. It wasn’t our pool and although it wasn’t our baby, we said we’d love it like a daughter. Together we blew air into its blue lungs. She materialized alive and had sung in her own dry bed nursing water. Ecstatic, we finally had someone to nurture as she extended a hand in the air. We built a home for her: here a table, there a chair. So much to look forward to! Her need for us grew. Then suddenly collapsed into the absence which I woke to.