The Morning After

Everything was blurry at first, but the presence of light helped in rousing her awake. She had sat up in an effort to further waken her senses, but only experienced confusion. The daze yielded from a very good night’s sleep persisted as she tried to recognize her unknown surroundings. At first, she noted how the room was nothing like her cell at Nonnatus House. It was larger, the walls a lighter tone, and even the window letting in the morning’s rays was different.

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The Start of Things

Her pain went unspoken for many months, weeks, and days leading up to her release. She had shielded her thoughts, the effect was akin to a thunderstorm, brewing in the distance. She never wished to make a fuss, choosing to suffer in silence, but he took notice of her. He saw her when no one else did and in turn, their feelings were realized.

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Inexperienced on the Matter

“I think you’ll absolutely love this Shelagh,” prompted Trixie as she reached into her nurse’s handbag. The worn out bag not only contained her usual nurse’s instruments, but an equally tattered novel. An air of mischief did not go unnoticed when Trixie passed the item of interest to Shelagh, who eyed it reluctantly.

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Living the Wrong Life

He didn’t know exactly what to say and his thoughts were sporadic, except for one question at the center of his mind. ‘What was even appropriate to say?’ He didn’t want to seem pushy, but his emotions were teetering on dangerous ground.

He looked down at the newly purchased parchment, crisp in form, but vacant in words. It was taunting him, waiting to spring to life, but remained blank. It remained empty and in its own vacancy it revealed how he felt since she left. He turned to his right, to the only item that contained his writing; it was a simple envelope with words neatly scrawled across it. It took him a good moment to properly write out the information, to ensure the recipient would be found and for the sender to be known.

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Your Hues Always Changing

The summer air breezed through the secluded park area, far from the daily lives of Poplar residents. Away from the store owners selling their merchandise and the grocers filled with self-grown to imported goods. Worlds away from the duties of Nonnatus House and the maternity clinic.

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