i remember salt water, hot sun, my mother shrinking on the shore. i remember the rocking of the boat, the screams of the gulls.

　　‘jasmine, you have a life inside you. can’t you hear it calling?’

　　nothing.

　　the ward door bangs, and i see jasmine’s father walking towards us, carrying flowers. he smiles at me.

　　even in death, my own child had my father’s smile, and jasmine’s will have this man’s. i know it.

　　he stops by her bed and touches her hair. something stirs deep inside me. i watch jasmine’s eyelids, waiting for her to bite.