Moonspear snakehips

At some point, his mother’s tongue sparked something in the preemie. His little body twitched and he kicked all four legs as though he were trying to swim. But the liquid of the womb had been replaced by air. His tiny mouth opened to draw in his first breath, which he let out on a thin wail.

But something was gravely amiss. His little, undeveloped lungs couldn’t seem to make sense of this new environment. He tried to let his mother know with another cry, though he couldn’t draw in enough oxygen to make a sound. And the brief spark of life quickly began to fade.

Soon he stopped moving and his brief, dim awareness of the world concluded. There was no real cognizance, no fear or pain. He lived for only a few moments and knew only his mother’s love.