Nothing goes the way I think it will. For starters, I have no idea I’m pregnant. I think my period disappeared because we’re biking 50 miles a day. Fast forward to a public park in Deming, New Mexico. Homeless men sprouting up around us like flowers. I hear diesel trucks going by and I know from when I was upright that they’re full of chiles. I can smell some roasting. My bike is sprawled with me in the fluffy grass, my sleeping bag has slipped off, church bells chime whatever hour it is and I can’t. Get. Up.
