Light passes through your walls. I'm awake. Your heartbeat paces steadily for you and I. There's a familiar sequence of humming- you're humming that same tune again. I lay against your wall in comfort. Suddenly you shift and something on the other side disrupts the light. I venture closer to your wall to seek what hinders my illumination. After a moment of nothing, I decide to recede and instantly the light returns and we move. I hear a high pitched noise followed by that voice yours and the light disappears again. Your happy- we are happy. I hear your voice again followed by a deeper voice I recognise. You obstruct my light once more and I do it again.
YOU ARE READING
21 Weeks | Short Piece
RandomA piece a wrote after my great aunt passed. This woman had taken care of me since I was around 8 months old and I wouldn't be where I am now without her. This piece is about a woman carrying a child and the joy when you first realise it really is re...
