Writer In Florence Ela Vasilescu
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fiction

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Day 273 – Childless mother (part VI)

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Remorse, fear, ignorance, second thoughts, abortion, fear…pain, drowning, heavy breathing, crying, fear…white door, doctors, motherhood, holding hands, judgement, fear… “- Clara? Clara?! – Yes… – I said we are ready for you now.” Her mother quickly stood up and still holding Clara’s hand headed towards the door. “-I am sorry ma’am...

Day 270 – Childless mother (part V)

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That bitch! He said he loved her. Didn’t she know that, didn’t he prove himself to her enough? That bitch! She acted like he raped her or worse. He just gave her exactly what she wanted from him. She asked for it, she craved it, she was practically begging him to do it. And then pretending like she was sick. Such a waste of time and energy. All virgins were the same. Sweet, naive...

Day 269 – Childless mother (part IV)

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Holding her daughter’s hand. Paralyzed with fear, invaded by memories. Seventeen years ago she was standing in a waiting room, similar to the one they were in now. Or maybe the tiles were just a little bit cleaner. She too was judging the women around her, she too was afraid of death and compromise. But she had to do it, her career was depending on her and also… also she didn’t...

Day 268 – Childless mother (part III)

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Stomach pains, vulnerability, headaches, inability to smoke, depression… peeing on a stick. Doctors, visits, wrong diagnosis, fury, collapse… peeing on a stick. Happiness, fear, pain, smoking, denial… peeing on a stick. ” I am better than this. I should have been better than this. This can’t be happening to me. Not to me, the girl who always advises other stupid...

Day 266 – Childless mother (first story)

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She could still remember that day, twenty years ago, too well. The sun was so bright, his rays somehow trying to penetrate her soul and burn her feelings. That hot, sweaty sensation, that sense of faint, that petrifying fear; they all whispered only one thing: not to do it. She could still feel the pressure on her left arm, while being dragged up the hospital’s stairs. It was the other...

Day 256 – Writer’s block

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I used to hear these two words a lot among some of my writer friends and also read about it many times in different articles. I never believed in it. I used to think that if you are a writer and you have a clear idea about what to write the rest is a piece of cake. I remember grinning at them, going home, writing a new short story in a few hours and thinking they were all full of crap. There is...

Writer In Florence Ela Vasilescu