Saturday, April 9, 2011

On our way

Her hand was hanging locked in the handle of the car. Her body was halfway lying, halfway sitting in the car seat.
The road was dark. The car was humming evenly. When she wasnt howling, it was only this humming we could hear.
Should I speed up, over the limit, to get faster to the hospital? Or could it be dangerous? What if we had a car crash? But what if the baby came out?
I decided to keep the speed limit. I watched concentrated into the darkness. Black forest all around. Black forest and black darkness. No moose had to come in our way now. No open road robbers. No sneaking diseases. Nothing had to get in our way.
Yes. I guess this had to be painful for her. No doubt about it. So painful that it was beyond the imagination of us men. Apparently. And now her howling came up more and more.
I turned up the the hospital. Damn! Where was I supposed to drive? I stopped the car. Fumbled with the cellular phone.
-What are you doing, she asked, inbetween her hyperventilation and moaning.
Where was that phone number? Then I found it, stuttered a question, searched for a door. Some white dressed nurses came out with a wheel bed. My wife got out of the car. Managed to crawl up in the bed. Then they were rolling into the corridor.

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