TERROR GRIPPED HER. From beyond the flimsy white cotton barrier around her room, she heard the anguished pleas of a recent mother; the doctors, of course, didn’t listen. She kept her feet on the floor, the crisp translucent marble a solid reminder to stay in control. Her son was with her.
They had summoned her in the middle of a mission; the market that hummed with voices, the crinkle of paper sacks, the fragrance of tea. She had been stalking around one of the expensive restaurants when her superior called her over: Her younger children were sick.
So she had left immediately, gratefully and quickly reunited with her oldest child. A slim doctor, faced shaved to reveal a trim chin and harried eyes, said, Follow me. So she did.
Carrying her son in her arms, they walked down a spiraling staircase…
Written: 13 Jan 2016
Inspired: literal dream + its strong emotions
A/N: this felt relevant this morning