Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.
You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.
Click here
Angela takes the bundle from nurse.
She holds the bundle gently, her eye's down, she lifts the blanket, and drops it back. Her eyes glisten.
I don't know what's happening.
The nurse has left.
My angel says nothing.
"Why are you crying?" I say to myself.
"Well...?" I say to her.
My angel looks up. She looks at me. She brings the bundle to me.
"Her eyes," she says.
The room blurs and I can't feel anything except the little bundle in my arms.
I look down. I lift the blanket.
Two blue eyes look into mine, as if they know me.
The room is silent. Reverent. Waiting.
Minutes pass.
Finally my angel says, "The letter..."
"I can't." I know myself.
"You must." She knows me better than I know myself.
I take the letter. Trembling. Tear it open. The tear is torn, jagged, crooked, ripped. Inside is nothing.
Distraught. I've learned to never expect anything. I should have known. I was right.
My angel takes the torn envelope, searches the scraps, and finds a slip of paper with a phone number.
She hands it to me with my phone.
I dial.
A shy gentle deep voice answers.
"Hello," he says.
"She has your eyes," I say.
"What hospital? What ward? What's your last name, Mary?" he says.
***
***
- COMMENTS
