I am 10 minutes early.
After signing my name on the first available line, I sit and wait.
Deliberately I thumb through magazines, one after the other as families of four smile up at me from the glossy pages.
It’s finally my turn.
I am ushered to a dark room and asked to undress.
The image on the large screen above me is fuzzy, difficult to make out and yet somehow I know.
My hands begin to sweat and I am holding my breath.
“I’m sorry, there is no heartbeat.”
A sound I have never made before escapes my throat.
This post is for Write On Edge’s weekly writing assignment RemembRED. This week’s prompt: Conjure something. An object, a person, a feeling, a color, a season – whatever you like. But don’t tell me what it is, conjure it. 100 words or less. Constructive criticism is welcome.
