i n

F

BIGGER

SMALLER

COURIER

GEORGIA

TIMES

VERDANA

COMIC

l

RECENT

POPULAR

e

u

 ^{(it's beta!)}

“We could call her Olive Eyes.” I whisper, touching the little hair that had already grown on the infants head. The baby I’d been holding for 10 minutes now.

“Will they always be olive though?” My friend asks curiously, also stroking the babies head now.

“Maybe” I reply, looking pensive for a moment. “If not, it can be our little secret. Only the three of us will know why the name is hers.”

“Do you think we’ll still be in her life by then?” She asks again, this time concerned.

I frown and turn to her. “Of course. Why wouldn’t we?”

“I don’t know. She won’t always need a babysitter.” She places her hand in her pockets and sighs.

“She’s not even a year old yet.” I note.

My friend nods and we walk over to the couch. It’s not our couch, we just sit on it.

I place little Olive Eyes down on her back, on the couch that you could say was hers, and she smiles up at the both of us.

“Hi baby!” My friend coos softly.

Olive Eyes giggles now and reaches for her hand. My friend sacrifices it and beams a bit.

Noticing the formation of little Olive Eyes' other arm, my face surrenders to yet another smile. “She’s a born dancer.” I say.

“Yeah.” My friend agrees.

This is the moment, where the camera would zoom out, and all would be calm, but life doesn’t work like clockwork… Or maybe the reference is Hollywood. Instead, the story simply ends.