The roads were empty as I rushed to the hospital. My wife was in labor. I needed to be there.
My lit cigarette was the only thing keeping me sane.
A bump in the road knocked my cigarette onto the floor of the passenger side, and desperately I ducked over with reaching fingers, searching the dirty carpet for my burning treasure.
The car slammed into something and I hit the brakes. A teenage boy lay battered with a twisted bicycle on the side of the road. His neck was snapped.
I got to the hospital. I’d had a boy.
About the Creator
T.F. Hall
Freelance writer and creative writer. I love to read, write, hike, and explore nature.
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