Hearsay
Elijah Pitt
Let me tell you the story of my birth.
It was a full moon, Mummy said.
The werewolves were out, trading
needles with Shopping Cart Sheila.
Daddy was off driving in some state
(Tennessee, Wyoming, inebriated)
so the nurse with the pixie cut snuck
Mummy dirty looks. The hospital
radio played that one Ashanti tune;
its disc jockeys guessed bin Laden’s
latest vacation spot (Doha!). She was
in a bit of pain, yes, but she’d born
twice before. She was used to this.
Just a couple more deep breaths
and then: ploop. And the air didn’t
unstill, and the radio announced
Bojayá’s death toll hit one hundred.
Elijah Pitt is a 1L and Writer for the Verdict.