Sequoia Coast [m] pineapple

What if she couldn't do it?

He said the pain was an illusion as if he knew; how could he know? He lied to her. His lies were meant for comfort but they were still lies. An illusion could do so much harm if you believed strongly enough in it; and this pressure inside of Wilwarin hurt so much.

Had she been right to be afraid?

The storm eased enough for her to catch a glimpse of moonlight. The day had gone, she had missed the sunset. There was only the struggle of her body now—and she refused the man's help, urged to get up and to walk, maybe run beneath the light.

Wilwarin shoved past the man and in to the snow as the wind began to change again. It would be too dangerous to be outside soon; but she needed to see it, the light of the moon. She needed to move.

When the spasm came again she sagged against the earth and then was urged to the shelter, and by now her thighs were slick but there was still no change to the birth.

What if it never ended?