The man in white scrubs was making gurgling noises as blood oozed freely from his punctured neck. His hands were losing the battle to maintain the pressure and his eyes slowly began to roll back into his head. Agatha, still gripping the scalpel, quickly cut off her son’s umbilical cord. Holding him close to her bare body, she gently began rocking him. His mother’s warm flesh cocooned his tiny form as his loud cries quickly turned into cross whimpers.
“There…”, she said softly, as she began nursing him. Looking intently as if to memorize every inch of him, her finger caressed his face. He had her mother’s eyes. A sudden sting in her throat threatened to become a surge but she bit her lip to hold back the thoughts that were not to be acknowledged. There will be a time and a place for them but now is not it. Now is the time to figure out how to get them both the fuck off this farm without getting caught again. She looked at her son who had finally stopped fussing and whispered, “Easy-peasy!”