Seed

by Ania Ahlborn

She and ten-year-old Abby had the infant gene—they fell asleep as soon as the car was in motion,

“Don’t listen to him.” Mabel waved a hand in disregard. “He’s gone and lost his mind since the last time you were here. All his marbles fell out, rolled under the tables and counters, and he’s too old to bend down and find them.” “Throw out my back,” Phil mused, rustling his paper.