She had to see that her baby was okay. One could die in peace knowing that – I was sure of it. I silently cursed the insane engineer who designed the car seat. When the seat finally broke free, I lowered it gently and turned the child around. It made a funny face, like an old man trying to struggle up a tall flight of stairs. A wet gurgling sound followed from within the seat. The smell that quickly grew was staggering. I ignored it as best I could. I pushed some flowered cloth bags out of the way and pulled the child, seat and all, out the window. The base of the seat barely fit. It wasn’t going to make it into the front. I set the car seat on the ground and started undoing more straps. Another moan from the front made me move faster. The child just watched me work, unconcerned it was 110 degrees out, and we would all likely soon die. I crawled carefully while keeping the smelly child at arms length. I scooted myself back in and sat the baby next to its mother, out of the pooling. I wanted to unwrap her slowly, as though she were the one gift that I’d waited my whole life for. She was the true meaning of passion to me. Lustful. Colorful. Her long blonde hair was a waterfall of softness and her hands were steady as she touched me during our second kiss. Her fingers were light and caressing, bringing me more pleasure than had she been making love to me with her whole body. I drank in her lushness, her giving, her generosity. I hurt so much inside for wanting to make her mine. My desire made me greedy and I started asking questions. I wanted to know her. I wanted to know everything about her. I wanted to flood my mind and soul with knowledge of her. And so I asked…once, twice, three times. I hungered for every corner in her soul. And my craving only increased with each word she spoke, each detail she shared. But I didn’t know then that in those moments that I was losing her. She stated, rather than asked if I were falling in love with her. I probed that too. Did.
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