Author : Martyn Dade-Robertson

“How about AtJohnaxith?”

“What”

“AtJohnaxith. I know its similar to AtRachelsynth and AtJonoheist’s youngest AtJaneith but they won’t mind will they?”

“This is not a good time darling–aaaaa”

AtMarystrum lay back on her bed, arched her back and dug her nails into the arm of the attending midwife. AtCiscoric sat beside her, tapping absentmindedly at his compuroll and muttered, to himself:

“Crap. One hit. Already taken”

“Why do we have to do this nowwwww oh GOD!!!!”

“It just doesn’t feel right. The little guy can’t come into the world without a name. We should have done this ages ago”

AtCiscoric reclined in a Foamafirm birthing chair, looked out of the window and let the sounds of his wife’s labor wash over him. The gentle electropan-pipe music playing in the background and the dimmed lights were not easing his mind. This should be one of the greatest days of his life but it just wasn’t going how he’d planned.

“It was so much easier for our fathers’ generation. They just took from the measly selection of available names and put them together. With the addition of few extra vowels and the right consonants you could create something unique without too much trouble. Now it feels like very letter combination is taken already”.

“Cisci darling seriously…”

“As for my great grandfather. His name was John. JOHN! There must have been dozens of them.”

AtMarystrum was panting quickly now. The midwife consulted the fetal heart monitor app on her bracelet before flipping back to a game app in which she flung smiley-faced sperms at a grumpy looking egg. “Everything’s normal” she said – to sound professional. The bed would, after all, take care of the hard stuff. She was to birthing what flight attendants where to piloting. Leave the flight to the autopilot and serve the drinks. Although the drinks here were served by a machine down the corridor.

“Your twitter feed’s gone crazy darling.”

AtMarystrum, who didn’t have enough breath to argue any more, responded with a low guttural moan.

@Elizabtheen: go girl! @Marystrum
@Michamiliod: Have you thought about taking an existing name and putting two X’s in the middle. #Michamxxiliod #BBY_NMS.
@Margaranium: @Michamiliod Aren’t you supposed to be working @Marystum?
@Michamiliod: @Margaranium Hadn’t you heard @Marystrum has just gone into labor.
@Michamiliod: RT@Ciscoric: @Marystrum has just gone into labor.
@Elizabtheen: why haven’t you twtd in 2 hours @Marystrum?
@Rachelsynth: Don’t make it too long. You never get retweeted with a long handle #BBY_NMS.
@Janicooldomincohemp: RT @Rachelsyth: Don’t make it to long. You never get retweeted with a long handle #BBY_NMS.
@Franciltornalo: RT Janicooldomincohemp: RT @Rachelsyth: Don’t make it to long. You never get retweeted with a lo
@Elizabtheen: You ignoring me? Scrw you @Marystrum!

“They want a status update honey. Do you want me to tweet something on your behalf?”

There weren’t enough vowels to translate the noises emanating from Marystrum’s lips and bowels and AtCiscoric couldn’t find a suitable emoticon. He instead opted for the approximate translation:

@Marystrum: Nearly there!

@Elizabtheen: Push!

@Michamiliod RT: @Elizabtheen: Push!

@Margaranium: RT: @Michamiliod RT: @Elizabtheen: Push!

@Rachelsynth: RT: @Margaranium: RT @Michamiliod RT: @Elizabtheen: Push!

@Janicooldomincohemp: RT: @Rachelsynth: RT: @Margaranium: RT @Michamiliod RT: @Elizabtheen: Push!

@Franciltornalo: RT: @Janicooldomincohemp: RT: @Rachelsynth: RT: @Margaranium: RT @Michamiliod RT: @Elizabtheen: Push!

“AtCiscoric…Sir…Mr AtCiscoric?”

“Yes?”

AtCiscoric looked up, startled to be torn away from his data flow.

“Would you like to meet your son?”

A tiny figure was being cradled by the PostNatal’s mechanical conveyor which rocked him back and forth through the Blow-dry and Baby Shine. AtCiscoric put down his Compuroll and looked towards Marystrum, who’s pained expressions were now transformed to ones of joy.

“Would you like to hold him”.

His son, now swaddled in a white antibacterial towel, was offered up to AtCiscoric on the PostNatal’s elevated platform. Calm but gasping its first breaths, the baby looked up at its father. Its eyes were blinking and unfocused but recognizable to AtCiscoric as his own. AtCiscoric held the boy, struggling to grasp the enormity of the event and working out how he should react. Then he knew. Settling the baby down, he returned to his compuroll, logged out of Twitter and created a new account:

@Cistoric_2: Hello World!