Isla
to share the space with simple living things, infinitely suffering
To no one's surprise, Isla has taken to her abrupt change in circumstances with all the pragmatic adoration of both a doctor and a new mother. Sleepless nights are a given, waves of sudden emotion to be expected, and with her taking a break from her duties at the clinic, living day by day has become the norm. Their daughter is, in her professional opinion, reassuringly ordinary, not an especially difficult baby but neither one content to sleep the night away without complaint.
Professional opinion only counts for so much, though. In Isla's personal opinion, Fern is extraordinary in every way possible, from her ten tiny toes to her big blue eyes to the way her cooing definitely sounds like the scientific term for hunger. She hasn't admitted the latter to anyone yet, luckily, not even Everest - and that's probably a good thing too. Because however well Isla might have taken to motherhood, she'd be blind not to see the cracks starting to form in the man she loves most.
It isn't that Ever is a bad father - quite the opposite in fact - but his attentiveness and hyperfocus are starting to come at a cost to himself. Isla has gotten up extra early today in fact, in an attempt to let him sleep a little longer, all but creeping through the house with Fern dozing in her arms so she can settle in the rocking chair by their balcony. It's a grey morning, rain pattering softly against the windows, and while Isla misses the sunshine of Longheat, it's nevertheless a peaceful start to the day, and she won't trade that for all the sunbeams in the world.
Professional opinion only counts for so much, though. In Isla's personal opinion, Fern is extraordinary in every way possible, from her ten tiny toes to her big blue eyes to the way her cooing definitely sounds like the scientific term for hunger. She hasn't admitted the latter to anyone yet, luckily, not even Everest - and that's probably a good thing too. Because however well Isla might have taken to motherhood, she'd be blind not to see the cracks starting to form in the man she loves most.
It isn't that Ever is a bad father - quite the opposite in fact - but his attentiveness and hyperfocus are starting to come at a cost to himself. Isla has gotten up extra early today in fact, in an attempt to let him sleep a little longer, all but creeping through the house with Fern dozing in her arms so she can settle in the rocking chair by their balcony. It's a grey morning, rain pattering softly against the windows, and while Isla misses the sunshine of Longheat, it's nevertheless a peaceful start to the day, and she won't trade that for all the sunbeams in the world.
fighting off like all creation, the absence of itself
