‘Because I love someone else too. I love someone else now.’ ‘He could come back.’ ‘I’m not sure it will matter. It might’ She sits up... bending her legs at the knees and leaning forward onto them, still holding the lock of hair in her fingers. She looks up at the moon, concentrating on the brightness of its glow. ‘What if he comes back?’ Looking back at the earth. A shrug. Nonchalance that she doesn’t feel. Then a long sigh. ‘I already chose. I’m here. I’m happy.’ A pause. ‘I am, I’m. ..I'm coming...let it go...put it in me...fertilise me...make me pregnant...I want a baby...I want...oh God...I need...I want...oooaw....oooaw...darling...yes...yes...aaaaow..."I was lost in her, pumping my seed in deep as if responding to her cry to be fertilised. I'm not sure to this day whether I really understood that cry - that it was seriously meant. Certainly it was different from the usual cries of the girls I had copulated with – "Don't make me pregnant will you" – but with mother I. More

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