Friday, April 29, 2011

Who Knows Where It Goes?

The underside of my right forearm feels like there's a small amount of weight, a shade over 7 pounds, lying on it much of the time, a phantom from the day the new-born Stevieling was placed there, her head in my cupped hand.

This day, at about 20 past one in the afternoon local DST, On the fifth (or was it the sixth) floor of Good Samaritan Hospital, 18 years ago.