Stealing own Child

Becky sat under the shed of a tree outside the kitchen house of her parent's home. In her right hand was a knife and in her left was a half-peeled potato. Several months had passed since the separation. Stressful and unpleasant months. Deep within her resided an intense longing. A mother’s longing for her only begotten son.

His brother Jephta, who was home for the August holiday, was watching from the sitting room of the other house while he took his 10 o’clock tea. He observed that nearly three minutes had passed since Becky stopped peeling the potato in her hand. She just sat motionless her gaze fixed at some point in the space in front of her. He was certain that this gloomy mood stemmed from the bitterness she was experiencing thinking about the loss separation had brought upon her. He wished he could help her get over it but had not figured out how.

He set the nearly empty cup on the table and stepped out of the house.

Footsteps interrupted Becky’s maudlin thoughts and she sna