This post is in response to the ‘Spin a Story’ Challenge or ‘the wheel’, set by raynotbradbury at https://raynotbradbury.com/2018/06/12/spin-a-story-challenge/
The rules are
- Pick any book, newspaper, or magazine.
- Choose 3 random words (best if with your eyes closed).
- Create a story by using those 3 words or combinations of words. Give the name to your story, poem, flash fiction – if you like (not obligatory).
- The style and the genre of the writing – any.
- Pingback to raynotbradbury to read and comment.
- Nominate up to 5 blogs. Have fun!
From yesterday’s newspaper, the words/phrase: hospital; lacy; no-brainer.
Too Close for Comfort
This story is based on something that happened to me in real life, so it’s more of an anecdote. A few years ago my father-in-law was ill and often in and out of hospital. My younger child was a baby then and still breast-feeding, so she had to come with my husband and me to visit.
It was good to see my father-in-law on the mend physically, but mentally he had grown a bit vague, forgetting recent events, and sometimes not even recognising us. Conversation could get repetitive, and on one occasion the situation grew awkward when he said out loud, “I wish these two would hurry up and leave so I can switch on the cricket.” Because he was deaf, he didn’t know he’d spoken audibly (or so we told ourselves).
Anyhow, inevitably, mere minutes into the visit, my daughter wanted a feed and started to fret. The distraction wasn’t unwelcome, but we were on the geriatric men’s ward with no dedicated feeding facilities available. So it seemed a no-brainer to lock ourselves in one of the generously-sized disabled services, which was gender-neutral (or ‘a bisexual toilet’ as my father-in-law used to call them). This enjoyed a convenient position right by the front desk and offered a comfortable chair.
Halfway through the feed, I was in the midst of swapping breasts when horrors, I realised I hadn’t locked the door properly. As it drew open, I rose to push it shut, clutching my daughter. However, in a disaster of mis-timing, I stumbled over the straps of the baby-changing bag and didn’t quite make it. An elderly man shuffled into the room, only to be met by a flustered topless woman barging towards him. He gave a squawk of dismay, causing the staff at the reception desk plus a couple of visitors to look in our direction, with me standing there, breasts hanging out of a lacy bra, and holding onto a distressed-looking older gentleman for balance. All to the background wail of a baby robbed of her lunch.
Moral: Some situations bring out the breast in you.
I nominate anyone who wants to pick up the challenge.
Photo credit: rawpixel.com