Always flying in the face of convention, Margo thinks her baby—five days old—the ugliest baby in the world. Like something to which a walrus might have given birth. She has cultivated a life largely free of delusions, and is determined not to let motherhood, however unexpected, change that. Not all babies are beautiful, and the concerted campaigns by nurses and strangers have done nothing to alter the fact. An ugly baby born into an ugly world is hardly some great tragedy. She is already bored of hearing, “Isn’t he gorgeous?” and her response—“I’m just glad he isn’t missing any fingers or toes,”—lacks any pretense of enthusiasm. Some think she is joking, or being modest, and others believe she’s overtired, but counting digits is often her only consolation. At least her baby—not at all a beautiful baby—has ten fingers, ten toes, two eyes, and a nose.
Margo’s mother, an avid Barbie doll collector, still refuses to believe that her daughter isn’t certain who the father is. Worse—that she can’t be bothered to find out. Margo remains vague about the moment of conception, which was either in an airport cleaning closet on her way home for Thanksgiving, or in the bathroom of the airplane back to clement California with a man known forever by his seat number—22B. Margo has no preference for one man or the other—she’s never believed in possessing other people—and envies the carefree lives they’re still living. Her own life will never be carefree again, and all her hopes and dreams have been reduced to a newborn sleeping through the night. Talk about delusional. And yet she clings to the prospect.
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Jean-Luke Swanepoel was born in South Africa, and he currently lives in California with his husband. His work has most recently appeared in Bending Genres, failbetter, and Tint Journal. His sophomore novel, The Book of David, was published in January 2025. Find him on Goodreads at www.goodreads.com/jlswanepoel.