Winter Contraction

Even if it looks abandoned, it’s still a hospital; she still believes help will come.

In the corridor with set of chairs she sits, clutching her stomach. There’s a rush of blood between her legs—it won’t stop. Tears run from her eyes and down to her cheeks. She’s with no one at this time of midnight—all alone in a winter Christmas.

“Please hold on. Please.” She cries as she tightens the hold on her young stomach. Someone’s whistling near the empty corridor. A contraction hits as she prays.

Nobody appears.


Thank you for reading this story. If you want to talk about random things with me, do not hesitate to reach me through my “Contact” page. All the best love, my dear.

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