The Hospital
She comes with her distended belly and eyes of wonder.
“I love you so much,” she says to the bloodied face of her new-born, as his screams of life fill the wards of hopes and dreams. His life yet to be lived, he stands at the plinth of liberty.
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She comes with her skeletal body and eyes of knowledge.
“I love you so much,” she says to her soulmate, as they loosely clasp hands of blotchwork gnarls. She barely hears his whimpers as they hum in the sterile corridors of suffering and pain. Her husband’s life lived; he stands at the plinth of liberty.
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His swaddling is a soft blanket. He suckles greedily. His time is yet to come and death is but a lifetime way.
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His bedding is a waterproof sheet. He feeds on liquid, drip, drip dripping from a bag. His time has been and death has been a shadowy stalker for manyayear.
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They leave through the front doors, with smiles, banners, soft toys and balloons.
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They leave through the backdoors, in silent, darkened vehicles.
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The hospital sees it all. Even in this place of a death, it knows, in the end, that life cannot be defeated. For everything that has ever lived is reused and reborn.
Source: Flash! Friday: Vol 3 – 25 | Flash! Friday
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I was very grateful for my Special Mention award this week
Metropolitan Dreams 