A stark depiction of alcoholism, controlling behaviour, the correlation of such dependencies, and how they manifest in reality.
Unsettling but ultimately gripping.
The harsh light streams into the living room. On the worn rug sits an out-of-place wooden drawer and swaddled inside, with rosy cheeks and large round eyes, a baby looks up at me. A shiver runs through me. It’s all I’ve ever wanted, but this baby is not mine…
Rocking the small bundle in my arms, I’m reminded of a time when I’d pictured tiny booties in every version of my future. The day I was told I’d never have a baby, the ground fell from beneath me. Could this be my one chance to become a mother?
As the sun sets, the baby begins to stir. His peaceful sleep disturbed by the sound of keys rattling against the front door. Frozen in panic, and with my heart pounding in my chest, I don’t have time to think before my husband, Miles, appears in the doorway. His face contorts in shock glimpsing the child cradled against my chest.
I hear his questions, but I can’t answer them. The truth is, I really don’t know what happened.
Did I steal the baby from a loving mother, or did I do it to protect him? And when dawn breaks, will I give him back?
Criminal Shorts 
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