nabµf #1 of 29

Baby Pixel came out of the womb and looked around, afraid and cold. He saw blurry shapes and heard fuzzy sounds, but did not know what or where they were. He wanted to go back. More than anything he wanted to go back. When he was in the womb, he hadn’t thought of it. He was just ready, he had been floating upside down for the past few months and he was afraid he was going to be retarded.

Now he was out and he didn’t even know which direction was back in, never mind how he’d go about getting there.

His head hurt, it felt like it’d been compacted into an area no larger than a vagina, and his near 800 unfused bones were unused to feeling any weight. Pixel was weak. As weak as a– future version of Pixel in which the analogy of weak as a baby would also fit.

And he had the absolute worst case of womb-head.

Baby Pixel felt yucky. Most of his comforting placental fluid was gone and the rest was fading fast. There were beings touching him and carrying him and Baby Pixel could do nothing. He was completely at their mercy.

One particularly large fellow held him and slapped him.

The doctor had slapped him to get the ugly off him. That didn’t seem to work. Then he slapped him again to get him to breathe.

Baby Pixel opened his mouth.

He uttered a silent scream then lay still.

|