Maybe the woman abandoned this child. I decided to scratch that thought. The child is loved. There were just unavoidable circumstances. I changed the narrative in case the professor thinks it’s autobiographical.
I looked at it. Sleeping, maybe a bit too sad, or too happy. Its facial expression doesn’t change but it seems to give off this energy of desperation. Like I wanted it to be happy, so I kept adjusting the air conditioning unit. Take it to that sublime temperature. Sometimes I overdid it. I found that it works, imagining slices of hope. Maybe the room wasn’t well lit enough for it to see ‘anything’ that’s why it chose to close its eyes.
It communicates. Despite what everyone says, I’m sure it can. Even though it was enclosed in an acrylic box it wasn’t ready for burial. The space could sustain an organism: just enough nutrients for the harvest.