Gaia- the Living Planet

G. stared at the battered copy of Woman’s Day and wondered if they came free with the furniture. They always seemed to have one in these places. “10 Secrets You Should Never Keep” blazed the cover. G. snorted. How many of her secrets were listed inside?
The problem with the truth was it stung like a hornet. Her mother always said she was just telling the truth whenever she started in about the mess G. got herself into by being one of “those girls”. Only, she wasn’t a girl anymore, and G. knew all about her mess. His name was Tim.
She glanced at the receptionist who was reading The Enquirer, and bit her lower lip. Too late she remembered it was split and winced. It was enough she had to come to this place, there was no reason she had to look the part too.
Every time that they had come downtown when G. was a child, her mother had always pointed out the squat cinder block building and told her that it was where she would end up if she continued down her wicked path. It may have taken thirty more years than her mother predicted, but G. was finally here.
She reached down into the torn lining of her coat and fingered the thin stack of bills there. It surprised her how little space $700 took up. It was more money than she’d ever held before, but it felt like nothing.
That was exactly the way Peter had treated it when he gave it to her 2 weeks ago. It had been so easy. All she had to do was ask. He acted like he was relieved. Like this would make them even. She had known in her heart this was the most she could hope for from him, but a part of her was still disappointed that he hadn’t even offered to drive her to the clinic.
G. pressed a soothing hand to her belly. It wasn’t that she didn’t want the baby, it was just better for everyone if it disappeared. Better for Peter—he didn’t need the reminder, and for her—she barely scraped by for the kids she already had, but it would be best for the baby too. Tim’s response to burnt casserole was a split lip. G. didn’t want to think what he’d do if he found out she got herself knocked up while he was away.
Men went to war every day and some didn’t come home, but not her Tim. She knew she should be grateful, but G. couldn’t help hating him a little for letting her taste freedom and then snatching it away again.
“Mrs. Marshall, the doctor will see you now,” announced the receptionist, now polishing her fingernails. G. rose from her seat like a woman much older than her thirty-seven years and headed toward the open door. This had been the hardest part of all—the getting here.

Gaia- the Living Planet


Joined January 2008

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A modernization of the Gaia myth

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