I stop mid-sentence when a second nurse trails into the room, cuddling a small bundle in her hands; my bundle of joy. They shouldn't have made all this fuss to alarm me, if bringing in the child cosily wrapped was what they intended to do all along. I open my arms to hold my blood. And then I see it. It's too late to brace my eyes from what follows.
I feel my heart starting to flutter, rapidly gaining speed, going to fast as the seconds tick by. "What is this?" I can hear my own voice rising, hitting its highest notes. "The devil's eyes! No, no... NO! This can't be mine!"
Chathushkie Jayasinghe presents in 'The Moon Child' a polyvocal narrative on love, life, and relationships through many eyes of a diverse society.