The Nestling

The ***** she brought to the marriage is bawling again. Something must have woken it up as it slept in its drawer where she keeps her special underwear. Turning to me in the dark. "Can you see to it?" she ask sleepily. I turn the nightlight on. Opening the drawer piteous cries fill the room, they jump through walls causing neighbors to dream of riding motorbikes. I wrap the toy up in a small child's blanket, its sobs becoming quieter. She stir under the blankets. "You always did resent it, “ she mutters. I slip into a dream, one where the ***** sleeps happily between us like a baby, maybe I’ll buy her a dog.