habit

The man looks tired. It’s in his face. He looks older than I know he must be. He moves with a new habit I’ve recently come to recognize: the mindless motion of a new father, keeping his child moving so they stay asleep. The baby is six weeks old. He stares off into space as he moves her. Lost. His mind doesn’t know where he is. His eyes dart around the room occasionally, and then land on the child sprawled out against his chest. He smiles.

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