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Weekly Contest #273
It was December. The wind was mercilessly swinging dry branches of the trees, whipping them against the hospital windows. On that Friday the 13th, a newborn baby's cry was heard among the faded olive-green walls of the maternity ward. Hands wrapped in surgical gloves handed her the shrunken but strong body of a screaming male child. Exhausted and sweaty from giving birth, his mother held him firmly but carefully, whispering gently into his ear: "Cry, my child... Cry out all of your tears now. Wise people say that when a c...
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