Martian Wallpaper - Part One
By Wen Wen Yang
This Week, The Daily Tomorrow takes you to Mars without leaving its room. We hope you see something in…
Martian Wallpaper
By Wen Wen Yang
I never want to experience morning sickness in this gravity again, martian colony be damned. My vitamins are low, exacerbating the fatigue. Not to mention the difficult labor, my son has a head like his father’s. I am in the rest bay until my lab results are less alarming for the doctors. Well, for John, my dear husband and doctor. Everyone in the colony is a parent or trying to become one, along with their mission critical career. I suppose being a parent is also mission critical.
The first night I wept uncontrollably. Wasn’t there supposed to be some maternal feeling flowing through my brain right now? Instead, all I can think of are the dangers that could strike down my child. Radiation, dust storms, my own hands around his very fragile neck.
John gave me something that makes my head fuzzy and my feelings numb. How have these pills frozen my heart? All I can do is stare at the walls. But my cheeks are no longer wet from tears. Food tastes like dust.
I don’t think I’ve even been in this particular rest bay before. It is so far from my plants and my son’s nursery. There’s a camera over his crib so I can watch him fuss. He kicks and balls up his fists. I cannot reach him, do not want to reach him.
How quickly the nurse arrives with my milk! I suppose it’s his milk once it crosses my threshold. Let him stay there with the nurses and doctors. I am only a botanist. The latest report is that he’s thriving. He looks like an angry potato. Perhaps I’ve been staring at too many potatoes from the greenhouse.
Wen Wen Yang is a Chinese American from the Bronx, New York. She graduated from Barnard College of Columbia University with a degree in English and creative writing. You can find her short fiction in Fantasy Magazine, Apex, Cast of Wonders and more. An up-to-date bibliography is on WenWenWrites.com.
Copyright © 2025 Wen Wen Yang