You can't be too careful, by H. G. Wells

Chapter 17

Henry Tewler Begins

EVANGELINE had a bad time in the nursing home. Bitter pangs rushed upon her, filled with violent futile effort, and receded. “Try now.” “Bear down,” and so on. But at last with a feeble cackle, a new Tewler was born into the world, and presented in due course wiped and washed to his exhausted mother.

Evangeline regarded her offspring with a hostile eye, over the corner of the sheet. She made no movement to touch it. “I knew it would look like Aim,” she said. “I knew.”

The eye closed.

The nurse looked at her colleague. Both were slightly shocked.

“He’ll took prettier tomorrow,” said the nurse, Evangeline turned her head over to clear her mouth and spoke deliberately with her eyes shut. “I don’t care. . . . I don’t care how it looks,” she said. “Take the thing away. I’m glad — glad to be rid of it.”

Such was the welcome of Henry Tewler to the mystery of conscious existence.

Last updated Sunday, March 27, 2016 at 12:02