Prompt #12: Gash
Sakura runs a finger over the long gash that stretches over her taut skin.
The morning is slow to rise and the clammy feel of cold clings to their bedroom. Her husband sleeps next to her, sound and dreamless. She looks over to the cot and her gash stings.
Little Ren had been a difficult pregnancy and an even harder delivery. They had been on tenterhooks for nine months and she had refused to even hope he would make it.
He was born a blue baby. She knew she had been wrong to hope when her teacher's face loomed grimly.
When she held him to her heart, he gave a small start. He lived, despite her logic and her despair telling her that the universe had never really been fair, why should it now?
He came back to her, just like his father did.
