Just as the Greeks hypothesised, my uterus traversed my whole body, and yet in an absence of hysteria, she squeezed herself calmly out from between my legs. I set her free and she rose like a glowing New Year’s lantern. Getting caught in bare branches, she fluttered from bud to bud: a bright pink robin with fallopian wings.
My brother called wombs man-traps, my best friend grieved ’till hers was filled. But no squatters, no prisoners, tenants nor tears for me: I just watched her joy, serene and sisterly, as my uterus floated away, augmenting us both.