The Shape of Things
A child is born into the wrong dimension, and two parents must decide how far love can stretch to reach him.
HE DID NOT WANT TO BE THE FATHER OF A SMALL BLUE PYRAMID
Peter Horn had imagined a child A face, hands, a cry
Something he could recognize as human
The pregnancy had been perfect
Machines had done their work,
Nothing was supposed to go wrong
Something has happened
The waiting room suddenly felt too small, too many whispers
Too many careful looks.
On the table lay a shape, cold and geometric, unmistakable
it rested beneath the soft hospital light as if it belonged there.
Then it moved and began to cry
This isn’t my child, this has to be a mistake
Destroy it
You can’t kill a human being
Human, that thing is human
Your baby was born into another dimension, alive and aware, only shaped for a world we cannot see.
Peter reached out without knowing why,
and the blue pyramid touched his finger, warm and alive
Hello, baby