A ladybird glistens on a tuft tiny tomato in the dew spat out M&M drop of blood. Buried, he always returns. Unseen hands knead her daily. She licks rustiness, a trickle at the corner of her mouth. Her eye compresses. He calls her name. The voice stumbles her in breath clenched. She wonders what bands will swaddle the rebirths down,

The first boy to change was Brian Ahearn. A fold of skin developed on his forehead while they were at the pool. All the mothers noticed it, and some of the fathers. It looked like an abrasion, as if he'd scraped his forehead on the pool bottom. His mother worried, but only a little. Unfortunately, by the time she checked on the fold of skin, after they had come home and all showered and were waiting for their Thai food to be delivered, it was too late.