The doorbell rang.

George looked at his wife, Angela, and for a moment they just stared lovingly at each other. They both walked to the door, but it was George that opened it.

Standing in front of them two well-dressed men sporting suits, long coats, and hats, smiled and introduced themselves as employees of ‘The New Life Project’.

“Mr and Mrs Harris?” The taller of the men enquired.

“Yes, please come in,” George replied.

The men entered the house, smiled, removed their hats, and made formal introductions.

“I am Mr Henson, and this is my associate Mr Baxter,” the taller of the two men stated.

They were invited to sit and as they did so Mr Baxter removed some paperwork from his folder and handed it to his colleague.

After swapping pleasantries they got down to business.

“So, I see here that you have decided not to raise a child…

The Caddo Root
Marge Simon

The mating time was brief this year. Our women sang notes like floss on the wild-wind plains. A human came who forced his seed on sweet Ala of the Yellow Eyes. We went on, saying not a word, bent to harvesting our Caddo root.

Afterward, Ala wasn’t the same. She cut her marvelous hair which had been dark and long, grown down below her knees. She wandered off to the Darklands, heavy with child and none to celebrate. We mourn her fate. If she survives, she’ll not return. She’ll raise his spawn alone. She was the envy of us all. When the child is born, she’ll burn his father’s image in the sands of our dead oceans. The human sits on our sacred stones. He preens his beard and leers at females, with no more thoughts to waste on Ala; he never even knew her…