Rough Delivery

Rough Delivery

A Story by JoshiDx
"

Being stuck in the waiting room can be difficult. Especially for those with impatience.

"

I sat alone in the hospital watching the clock on the wall count off the minutes. My legs shook. I couldn’t wait for it to be over. The agony was unbearable. I rubbed my hands together and tried to find a happy thought. Any cheery thing would do, but all I could think of was miniskirts. And not just any miniskirts, I thought of pink ones with frills.

I hate miniskirts.

My eyes wandered over to a vending machine. It stood tall in the corner of the waiting room winking at me with its dim lights. Its sides were battered up and down from where all the people like me had banged on it hoping to free their trapped snack, their little escape from reality. I spotted a lonely bag of chips dangling from the third row. It seemed to understand my mind, hanging half upside down. I suddenly knew I needed it to fill the growing void in my soul.

Fishing in my pocket I found a dollar. It was crumpled and slightly damp, as would be any dollar when the owner finds that they truly need it. I sighed. It would be my luck to have a soggy dollar. Pulling it out I watched a few coins fall to the floor that had been wrapped in the soaked bill. I dove on my knees to scoop up the change. Not a soul was around, yet I felt desperate, certain that if I weren’t swift enough that someone would swoop down and take off with my last hope of relief.

I counted the coins. There were two quarters, a dime and a nickel. I looked back at the vending machine. The chips were eighty-five cents. I dug back in my pocket, fingers grasping between my keys. Another dime came out, then another nickel. I was still five cents short. Suddenly another soul swooping by didn’t seem so terrible. At least they might have some change.

Then the door opened. A nurse looked at me with worried eyes, her lips pursed as if to speak, but she simply smiled instead. I understood. Nodding I looked back to the vending machine. The snack was critical now, essential to my survival. I had to have that damn snack, even if I contributed to the failing condition of the dilapidated machine that sat in the corner as I did. With a steady hand I wound up. My muscles tensed as my arm flew back forward, crashing hard into the machine.

The chips shuddered but did not budge.

“Sir?” The nurse wanted my attention. I knew I should reply, but I couldn’t face her without those chips.

“Just a moment.”

I wound up again. This time I knew I wouldn’t fail. I let my arm fly with all the force I ever could have mustered. As my hand hit the machine I let out a whimper of pain, the blow sending tingles through my body. I clutched my wounded hand. Then I saw the chips teetering on the edge.

“Come on,” I cheered them on. “Come on!”

“Sir!” the nurse said harshly. “Your wife…” But she didn’t understand.

“Just a moment.” I looked back at the vending machine. “Come on…”

The chips dropped. The sound of their gentle crunch at the end of their journey filled me with joy. I pumped my fist in the air triumphantly. At last my soul could be satisfied. I snatched the snack straight from the slot at the bottom of the machine. It was a proud moment. Opening the chips I began to shove them in my mouth in hurried motions, eating them as if they would be my last meal on earth.

“Sir!” The nurse tried to smile at me, but her eyes betrayed her frustration. “Your wife…”

I stared at her. “Yes?” At last I was ready for her words.

“She had the baby. It’s a boy.”

After that fierce, fleeting struggle, I still wasn’t ready. The doctors had sworn it was a girl. As I fainted on the floor the chips spilled out beside me, now dirty and thoroughly unsatisfying. Just before my eyes flickered shut I looked up and saw a woman walk by in a miniskirt.

I hate miniskirts.

© 2011 JoshiDx


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Added on August 28, 2011
Last Updated on August 28, 2011
Tags: Pregnant, Birth, Chips, Struggle, Boy

Author

JoshiDx
JoshiDx

Iceland



About
I decided to break down and write something here. Too bad I don't know what to say. What's there to know about someone who doesn't exist? Even if words capture the essence we are still at a loss for w.. more..

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