On the Christian Indie Writer’s Podcast, where I am a co-host we do a writing sprint every week just prior to going live. We are given a writing prompt, a timer is set for 15 minutes, and we write until the timer goes off. This is one of those sprints.
It is unplanned, unedited, and raw. The typos and misspelling and passive voice are all left in, so you can see how story happens, not always perfectly the first time. There may not be an ending to these if the timer goes off before it’s done. This is a story line that’s been in my head that I’m allowing myself to only write on Friday’s. So follow along, to find out what happens next…
Prompt: “I can’t believe she said that!”
The wind howled outside the walls of the one room cabin. Anastasia sat on the foot of the bed, gripping the bed frame and trying to remember to breathe. Then the pains would grip her middle and the screams would come, unbidden, from her throat.
She knew women had been doing this since the beginning of time. It was a part of life, a part of nature, but she was terrified.
It had been almost two days and still the pains gripped her every few minutes, sending shockwaves through her middle and making any thought of anything else cease. Surely the child inside of her couldn’t withstand much more.
She tried to remember the last time she’d felt the baby move but the pain and pressure returned driving all thoughts from her mind once more.
Viktor had been gone for 3 days now. He’d gone to search for game and promised to be back within a week. Her time wasn’t supposed to be here so soon and he’d thought to get enough meat so that he wouldn’t have to go out again until spring, and be back before the baby arrived.
The morning after he left her pains had started.
They were mild enough at first that she’d simply continued what she was doing, pausing at the worst of them to breathe through the pain. By the time they were bad enough for her to realize this was it, it was too late to do anything but ride it out.
The nearest neighbor was a two hour walk on a good day with no physical hindrances. She may have been able to make it on that first day, when the pains weren’t so bad, and the sun was sparkling like diamonds on the snow.
But then the storm moved in, thick snow blowing almost horizontally in the howling wind, and even going to the privy could be life threatening if you let go of the rope Viktor had secured between the privy door and the porch railing of the house.
Anastasia tried not to think about her husband out in such weather or the dwindling wood pile outside the door. She tried not to berate herself for not heading for the neighbors at the first pain.
Not that the neighbor would be all that happy to see her anyway. Their last meeting had not gone well. Mrs. Anatola had looked at her swollen belly, shook her head, and said. “Doesn’t seem possible to be so pregnant so soon after the wedding!”