Kathryn Comitz
Stories (2)
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Guinevere
Even in the darkest of times one can always find the light within. The shrill cries of a baby erupted through the stone walls of Eros. A young woman, barely older than twenty years, lay writhing in pain, alone, and with only the sins of her soul to deliver her first and only child. It was a short labor, shorter than her mother and her mother’s mother had. How much she yearned to have her mother with her in this moment. She had no one to guide her as she delivered her baby in the hidden basement of her home, in the hopes no one would hear or see. Like many of the things in her life the baby’s birth caught her off guard. Her baby was three weeks early and decided to arrive in the dead of night, just before midnight. She was small, smaller than she should be, with barely a tuft of hair growing from her head. But she appeared healthy. Her skin was pink and plush, her heart strong.
By Kathryn Comitz4 years ago in Fiction
Guienevere
Even in the darkest of times one can always find the light within. The shrill cries of a baby erupted through the stone walls of Eros. A young woman, barely older than twenty years, lay writhing in pain, alone, and with only the sins of her soul to deliver her first and only child. It was a short labor, shorter than her mother and her mother’s mother had. How much she yearned to have her mother with her in this moment. She had no one to guide her as she delivered her baby in the hidden basement of her home, in the hopes no one would hear or see. Like many of the things in her life the baby’s birth caught her off guard. Her baby was three weeks early and decided to arrive in the dead of night, just before midnight. She was small, smaller than she should be, with barely a tuft of hair growing from her head. But she appeared healthy. Her skin was pink and plush, her heart strong.
By Kathryn Comitz4 years ago in Fiction
