Body Suppressed (2021)
An unborn child looks at its possible future parents. They are members of reindeer herding families that are falling apart. The child looks back in time to find out why, and starts doubting whether there really is a place for it in the future.
I'm not born yet.
That's the problem.
That's why she's sitting there in that way, with that frown on her forehead, even though she's too young to be having frowns like that. She was just told by the doctor. That she's expecting me. She doesn't know what to say. She doesn't go straight home as she should do. She doesn't call my father to tell him. She has walked the riverside road, and now she has sat down on that rock and there she is. She's wondering if she wants me. She's wondering if she should call the doctor's office again and book an appointment to have me terminated.
I look at her and all her agony.
Almost none of it are about me.
That's how agony works. It's about oneself.
On the way down to this rock she passed her old primary school.
That didn't help. It made her think back. She sat at the same desk there all those years. They have had it refurbished, but she does not see what's changed. She looks straight through the new parts and the freshly painted walls. She looks straight back at what once was. Everything she did not understand at the time.
I think she thinks that someone like her should not have children.
She sits there and probably wonders if she's about to reproduce her own nightmares.
I think she thinks that if she decides to keep me, then all the same things will happen again. Just hear now that she finally picks up her cell phone and calls my father:
The connection is bad at my dad's end because he's almost out of reach.
Where are you?
I have been up on the mountain to fix the fence.
I'm on my way back to the village now.
Did you go to the doctor?
What did he say?
It was nothing serious, was it?
Yes, it was.