.

L had her baby last Saturday and has returned
to work on the following Tuesday. she looks
contentedly shell shocked with an infant boy
quietly resting beside her in a stroller,
casually declaring, "the epidural didn't take."
domesticity suits L and presents a new side
to her otherwise outgoing demeanor.
a softer, less guarded side.

K walks in; the quintessential man`s man
(whatever that expression means), exuding
invulnerability and incessantly complaining
that he does not understand what women want
(having failed at an early marriage). his
ongoing defensiveness typically plays out
offensively. but something about her child's
presence immediately transforms him. L notices
this right away, as any woman would. her eyes
ask him a wordless question, the one he
secretely longs to hear. much to my surprise,
he nods enthusiastically and soon the baby
is cradled in his arms. K walks away from L
towards the far corner of the room with a
tiny bundle pushed close to his cheek, his
large right hand supporting the back of the
infant`s head. he slowly sinks into a generous
blue chair angled at the bay window. it is
early evening and K sighs with complete
contentment, a newborn child resting on his
chest, its little body rising and falling to
the beat of K`s breathing, and K studying the
baby with all-encompassing awe, overcome by
the same hypnotic effect that huge beach
bonfires and mountainous ocean vistas inspire.
K`s humanity finally escapes him when he looks
up and reports that the baby is straining his
lips to find the right spot on his chest in a
search for food. L smiles and instinctively
stretches her arms wide.

I no longer take K`s bravado too seriously,
no longer feel completely intimidated by
his male impenetrability, having seen this
gentle core. every subsequent display of his
machismo is forever undone by this moment,
late afternoon light halo-ing skin,
halo-ing tender vulnerabilities.