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Rated: 13+ · Other · Drama · #1290145
This is the first draft of my opening paragraph / prologue to my book.
The mother sat in the waiting room, strangely like a hotel foyer, and tried to focus on the doctor talking to her.  She was giving her such vital information, and yet the mother’s eyes were roaming over the doctor’s face, wondering how old she was.  Surely this woman was younger than her.  She looked in her twenties.  This young person held her daughter’s life in her hands?  How was that possible? Was that what caused this fluttering in her belly?  Was this nerves that such a young doctor could be responsible for her child’s health?  Or, more disconcertingly, was this nervous flutter a sense of jealousy that another woman had achieved so much so young? 
She tried to snap her attention back to the words falling from this young mouth.  Honestly, what kind of person thinks these thoughts?  She had to focus.
Hang on.  There were no more words.  Oh God, she isn’t talking anymore, she’s looking at me.  What did she just say?  Did she ask a question?
‘I’m sorry? What was that?’ she asked, slightly flustered.
‘That’s okay, Mrs Ryall, it is so much to take in at once.  You must be feeling very scared and emotional right now.  Take your time to process everything and I can come back soon.’
Oh God she thinks I can’t concentrate because of the distress, what the hell kind of person am I?
‘Is there someone coming to be with you soon, Mrs Ryall?  Can I call somebody for you?’
‘My husband is on his way’ she explained.
‘Okay, I will leave you for a while and come back when you husband is here and you can make a decision together.’
Oh shit – there was a decision!  What the hell was it?

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