Fiction | July 14, 2015
What to Expect
Robin Romm
Three am, four am, the inky blot of time between night and dawn, she sat up in bed covered in sweat. There were no dreams to blame. She’d stopped dreaming. It was like her body knew she no longer needed to dream, that she had stepped into a reality more surreal. The baby could be retarded. The baby could be autistic. The baby could have a congenital defect, faulty DNA. The baby could have a less determinate problem— could be mean or exhausting or ugly. Really, this baby could be anybody.
This story is not currently available online.
If you are a student, faculty member, or staff member at an institution whose library subscribes to Project Muse, you can read this piece and the full archives of the Missouri Review for free. Check this list to see if your library is a Project Muse subscriber.
Want to read more?
Subscribe TodaySEE THE ISSUE
SUGGESTED CONTENT
Editors' Prize Winner
Apr 16 2024
Invasive Species
Invasive Species We couldn’t decide between killing lionfish or common starlings. Harry voted for lionfish because spearfishing them would require a trip to Florida, a place on the map contrary… read more
Fiction
Apr 16 2024
The Regal Azul
The Regal Azul They were somewhere over the Atlantic, south of the Grand Bahama, but beyond that, Lang couldn’t say. This absurd cruise ship, outfitted with every form of entertainment… read more
Fiction
Apr 16 2024
Semicolon People
Semicolon People If I spent four years in medical school, I’d want people to address me as “Doctor,” so I call my new psychiatrist “Dr. Reagan” even though my friend… read more