Audio or Video Story: Click Podcast Por  arte de portada

Audio or Video Story: Click

Audio or Video Story: Click

Escúchala gratis

Ver detalles del espectáculo

Acerca de esta escucha

Just mucking around with stories — so these are two different readings of the same story. The audio and video are separate recordings, so you can listen to the audio above on its own, or with reading the story below. Or you can watch the video. Or any combo…Click:They’d met at a café. First impressions were awful. But by coffee number three, things had reset. She’d spilled a drink on his lap. He laughed it off. She blushed and grinned. It was already a story.The click was instant. Like a fridge magnet finding its place. A done deal.One month later, they were living together — one main room and one bedroom, a third flatmate named Mike. A quiet mechanic who mostly kept to himself. Cheap rent, just for the couch, but every little bit helped them.Tama didn’t have much of a job — calling himself a musician was generous. A keyboard player in a band that scored bar gigs twice a month if lucky. Miri was at polytech, studying photography. She worked harder than him, that was clear. Mike often loaned Tama money.One night, Mike brought his workmates around for drinks. Miri wandered through, taking photos, ignoring a few crude shouts. Tama came home when the drinking games were mid-chant, whisked her away for coffee and cake.It was over a slice of pecan pie that she told him.“I’m pregnant.”Tama choked. Coughed. Wiped his mouth. “Come again?”“You won’t actually need to”, she said, with a laugh. “Two months,” she said more calmly.“What the fuck are we gonna do?” His voice cracked.“Become parents.”He stared at the table. His chest fluttered with something between panic and awe. “Seriously, Miri…”“I’ll finish my course. You’ll get a job. We’ll figure it out.”And somehow, that calmed him. They hugged in the middle of the café. Someone clapped. They left grinning.Back home, Mike and the other mechanics were stoned in the lounge, listening to Genesis. Tama muted Phil mid-scream. The word “mama” left hanging in the air that night. “I’m gonna be a dad!?Mike blinked. “Huh?”“We’re pregnant!” Miri confirmed.“Fuckin’ A. Wanna toke?”“No thanks,” Tama said. “Big night. Early to bed for me.” He looked at Miri. “Coming?”“In a sec,” she said. “I wanna finish this roll.”He left.Mike turned to her. “You wanna toke?”“No thanks,” she said. “Weren’t you listening? I’m pregnant.”“So?”“I’m having a kid, Mike. I can’t smoke pot.”He shrugged.Then she walked over. Took his arm.She whispered, “it’s yours”.“What?”“The baby. Mike.”He stared at her. “It was one time.”“I know!”“I was wasted. That never even… I didn’t even…” He trailed off. “Fuck.”“I couldn’t tell him.”“You should’ve. It was just once!”“I can’t lose him. He’s the one. He’ll be an amazing dad. You know it.”He slumped into the couch. Ready now for bed also. “What are you asking me?”“Nothing. Just your silence.”He nodded. “Okay.”“And you’ll move out. Before the baby’s born.”Another nod.“I’ll never ask for money. This is my life. His life. We’ll make it work. He doesn’t need to know.”“What about a paternity test?”She slapped him.He didn’t flinch. Just looked at the floor. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll move out.”Four months later, he did.Tama had paid him back. Gigs were steadier. He’d started giving piano lessons too. Miri finished her course, took a job at a front desk. They turned half of their bedroom into a nursery. It was working. But the baby monitor wasn’t. Tama could not work out how to set that up.Trina arrived, no troubles. Seven pounds, four ounces. The couple wept. Mike visited once. Brought flowers. Held the baby longer than Miri expected.“She’s got her father’s eyes,” Miri said. And her father smiled.Tama had to get ready for rehearsal. But first, one more check on the baby.Mike whispered, “You think he’ll ever know?”“No”, Miri hissed.Mike nodded. “He’s a good dad.”Miri smiled. “He is her father.”Tama was holding Trina close, just listening. Mostly awe, not much panic. The heartbeat a tiny miracle.The baby monitor buzzed softly. Voices. Words fading in and out, but one part he heard clearly.He is her father.Sounds Good! is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.Thanks for reading Sounds Good! ! This post is public so feel free to share it.Start writing today. Use the button below to create a Substack of your own Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe
Todavía no hay opiniones