To my child,

  I can hear steps and voices and other noises all around. In the center of a large home in town it's never really quiet. But somehow...it feels silent. Everything is muffled.

  I'm just sitting here, waiting. There is nothing for me to do. I suppose I could try making up poems like she does, but I never learned how. I'm lucky I managed to learn how to write from big brother. I don't think I would be a good poet.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  Nobody talked to me today. I don't know where the nice guard went. The old woman who brought my food didn't want to tell me how you are doing.

  I hope you're a healthy baby.

  In love,

  your mother