Pinky cheeks, a rooting mouth against Hester’s full breast, the newborn was greedy. Driven by her wants, she took what she needed. She was utterly satisfied.
Her twin brother squirmed in their father’s arms. “He’s strong, look at those little fists.” Eric passed him to his mother.
Eric gazed at his suckling son, then at his daughter.
Hester’s eyes teared up.
“We’re ready now,” Eric said. Thirty, not the nineteen they’d been when God had spared them and took away their sin.
The mother’s emotions were more complicated. While he had gone to war, she had made her own peace.
Monica's Monday Morning Flash 