The Midwife

Diet Milk Magazine/December 4, 2022

Even before Clara entered the house, she sought the smell of death. Her midwife’s nose was attuned to it, honed over ten years of guiding struggling life into the harsh light of the world.

The housemaid, Susie, sat in the late night shadows, holding a flickering candle, her face blank and pale.

“Any news?” Clara asked breathlessly, removing her shawl and muddied boots.

“The tonic did its work. He passed just one half hour ago, mam. I washed and dressed him. The birth?” she whispered, handing a lit candle to Clara.

“Troublesome, but the child lives. Tonight of all nights.”

“We’ve done some good this night,” Susie said, patting Clara’s back. The two women trudged upstairs.