Unlike the days, the nights are not hot and have a coolish breeze billowing the curtains.

I lay in a pool of sweat in a nest of twisted summer weight blankets.

I won’t be pregnant, that’s ridiculous.

What about all of the stories the midwife told me of women getting pregnant in life after vasectomy.

It’s really not fair to tell those tales whether or not they are true.

I think about the nights I am almost sleeping and the plans I am plotting and I am immobilized by the reality of it all.


i’m not pregnant, just prone to thinking about it all the time.


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