Growing Friendship by Suzanne Link

Patrice’s tiny hands smack the earth with finality. “How’s that, Mama?”

“Perfect.” My heart bursts with motherly joy. Farming runs in our veins, and Patrice is a natural.

“Time to feed ’em!” Patrice thrusts out her palm.

I drag my blade across her thumb. She doesn't even flinch as blood drips onto the dirt.

“When’ll he be ready to harvest, Mama?”

 A muffled slurp sucks beneath the freshly turned soil.

“Not long. Our crops are fast-growing.”

The mound wriggles. A slick, embryonic finger pokes up from the ground. Patrice claps.

I stroke her hair. “You’ll have a new playmate soon.”