By Leftie Aubé

I always thought we’d be five. Five’s a good number. We were three when I was growing up and it felt too little. I daydreamed about us being five. An older brother and a baby sister. I always got mad when my parents told me it was impossible. My partner’s are five and they are the happiest family I know. My sister-in-law’s are five and my brother-in-law’s are five so we had to be five too, that’s just how families work best. But before we even got to three, I got sick. Then even more sick six months after we became three. But three isn’t a good number so even if I was sick and getting sicker when we were becoming more, we kept going. And while we were becoming four, I got even more sick. So sick we feared we would remain three. But by some miracle, we became four and becoming four with my sicker body scared us so much that we decided “that’s it, we’ll stay four.” Even if four isn’t as good as five. It was better than trying to become five only to still be four or even worst, go back to three but without me. So four had to be enough. And for a while it was. But six months after we became four I got sick again, way too sick to get better this time around and they had to remove the sick organ from my body. For two years after that, being four was way too many. But somehow I made it through every day of those two years and through two additional reconstruction of my organ, and surprisingly on the other side of all of this was being not sick. Then there was becoming healthy, something I had stopped dreaming about even before I stopped dreaming about becoming five. And then, slowly but surely, as I was becoming more myself and more healthy every day, five seemed like a good number again. Like the best number again. Despite everything. Four felt more and more like not enough again. Too much symmetry. Not enough adequate imperfection. But by the time we all four were ready to maybe become five, we had been four for too long. We had started to dream other dreams while we were getting used to being four and being five would be too much with those new dreams. And what if becoming five somehow made me sick again? Becoming more as greater risks than we dare to admit. Would it be worth it to maybe be sick again just to be five? Or is four enough? For now, four sure feels good. Feels right. And we’ll see. Maybe five one day, who knows. But for now we’re four, and happy, and healthy. That’s more than enough, right?

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Leftie Aubé is a horror writer who lives near Québec city. She’s a supporting member of the Horror Writers Association. Her flash fiction, “Can’t Stand It Anymore,” was published in the collection “Wherever We Roam,” where it was chosen as an honorable mention. She’s the host of Leftie Aube’s Writing Podcast, where she shares her writing and publishing journey with vulnerability and positivity to help other writers navigate their own journey. She is represented by Ameerah Holliday at Serendipity Literary. You can find her on Instagram, Bluesky and TikTok @leftieaube.