She sat on the ferry deck, breastfeeding her child in the early New York City night. I saw only her silhouette, but I knew she was beaming—absolutely high on the bliss of motherhood.
I searched for the other faces I knew had to be smiling as wide as I was. I found frowns, revulsion, even disdain. Idiots, I thought, unnatural animals!
Looking up at the sky, I fed on the energies of the Dark Moon. When my fingertips tingled, I aimed my opened palms towards the mother and child. Right before my spell shielded mom and babe, in a silky veil of Dark Moon, the mother’s eyes twinkled my way: natural magic.
Breastfeeding, by Gadi Ramadhani