Sirens

She lay in bed staring at the craggy wasteland that was her ceiling. It was desolate and barren and it consumed her. It ate her thoughts and kept her awake, ever since she heard the sirens. The only sound she could hear was the blood pumping and pressing past her ear. It's rushing engulfed her senses, ever since she heard the sirens.

Since she heard the sirens, her mind was aflutter. Nothing could stick; each thought skipping cruelly across her mind harassing her. All since she heard the wail of the sirens.

She got up, unable to deal anymore. She strode down the hall as if being chased, desperate. She opened the door, quietly, so she could she her baby. Through the feasting gloom she saw a slight twinkle from her daughter's eyes: desperate for her mother's confidence. She sent a hollow smile through the expanse to her daughter who reciprocated in kind.

Silently she closed the door and turned to head back to her room. She couldn't move. She was frozen, crippled by fear. She knew where it was from. She could feel it in her stomach and her chest. She was absolutely certain, more confident than she had ever been about anything before. No doubt dwelt inside her.

She was certain tonight she became a widow. Ever since she heard the sirens.