The Exorcism of Cynicism

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It was the time of Saturday night where the city life is abuzz with bon vivants walking in impossibly high heels and conserving water by relying solely on alcohol.

Meanwhile, Aria was wondering if superglue might keep her eyes open. She looked down at her loose-fitting smock with a custom pattern of baby spit up and sighed. There was a movement, and her little one Momo was awake.

She held the bottle against the protesting infant. The little human was more interested in the earphone wire near him than sustenance. As she tried to wrestle inedible wire from Momo, she realized that either she was abysmally weak or the milk- refusing little one was somehow stronger.

"Please just drink it so I can get some sleep."

There was noise at the front of the house. Her older sisters were just getting in. They came to her bedroom door and stumbled inside.

“Look at mommy partying alone.” One of them said.

“Don’t say that it’ll make her so jealous.”

They both laughed together.

“We’re off to sleep, and don’t try to wake us up early. I. This case misery doesn’t love company.”

“My child is not misery.” Aria said tightly.

One of them snorted and the other waved her hand as they went away.

Aria closed her eyes and tears of anger winded down her cheek. As she raised her hand to wipe them, she felt the of tiny fingers pushing away tears from her face. Momo smiled at her.
“Don’t listen to aunts Ma.”

“What? How are you talking?”

“Silence is better, I don’t like the noise of talking. Now look at that lamp.

In a dazed state, Aria looked at the brightly lit lamp.

Momo reached over and switched it off.

An amber glow hung around the lamp, casting a beautiful silhouette of a mother and her child.

She no longer felt sleepy, just felt that ephemeral wonder of being alive.

“Moms create wonders that can help how you see the world. Loving the brief beauty of the dying moments of a lamp than the brightness that the world loves.”