Sometimes the connection between mother and baby scared me. The snow is falling, more like dripping; it’s slush. But the world is white and I am cold. The bumps in the road lull the baby to sleep. Am I sleeping too? I shake my head and pinch my leg.
Now I see the lights, and houses and smoke billowing from chimneys. It won’t take me long, and then I can get back on the road.
Leaving the car running in the street I take the baby and I run to the first house with pretty Christmas lights.