He entered the room with its bright fluorescent lighting. After eleven hours on his feet, he knew he was walking on automatic. One foot leadenly in front of the other as he headed towards the parents.
The parents.
He could picture them in his minds eye, pacing, tired, hopeful. Would he have to shake them gently awake with the news? Somehow even though he knew medicine would be gut wrenching, no one could have prepared him for how emotionally difficult it would be. After years of dealing with cadavers in med school he thought he has become numb to the human condition.
Apparently not.
He rounded the corner and there they were – the parents. Surrounded by what must have been their entire village. As he approached them time stood still – they all looked at him with the same unspoken question spanning all their eyes.
His eyes brimmed over, the emotion manifesting in telltale liquid in his eyes.
“We did it” he said. “The twins are safely separated, and alive”. No one could have explained to him the profound joy he would feel each time he brought news of a life saved, or one transformed.
It still got him every time.
Written for Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner. Week #11-2017.
Requirements: Create a 200 word flash story using the photo prompt.
Hard at Art 