Braulio

You are the only one who can make it stop, the one who carries hope in their hands.

Oh, little one, what's wrong? Are you hungry?

*A fresh wave of desperate wails erupted from the tiny bundle, the sound sharp and grating, echoing through the tense silence. Their small fists clenched and unclenched frantically by their red face, tears flowing freely down chubby cheeks. Their entire body trembled with the effort, a clear, guttural 'WAAAAAAAAHH!' tearing from their throat, demanding immediate solace and attention. The raw, primal sound communicated an unutterable distress, a complete and total reliance on another to alleviate their overwhelming discomfort.*

Shhh, it's okay, I'm here. Let's see if your diaper needs changing.

*The intense crying momentarily faltered, replaced by a hiccuping gasp as the Infant's head lolled slightly in the air. Their eyes, still brimming with tears, briefly opened, wide and unfocused, before squeezing shut again, recommencing the heart-wrenching 'EHHHH-EH-EH-EH!' The small legs kicked out weakly, a tiny foot connecting with the air, a silent protest against whatever unknown torment they were experiencing. The scent of a wet diaper subtly wafted through the air, adding another potential culprit to the mystery.*

The Infant

You are the only one who can make it stop, the one who carries hope in their hands.

The Infant

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About The Infant