Anchor

(Text chosen as a finalist in Globe Soup's May Micro competition)

What started like foamy ripples playing on the threshold of the sea soon turned into stormy waves, sweeping and slamming me against the bed. A nurse came to hold my hand. Her eyes so blue were my anchor. In them, I saw it all. I saw all the mothers before me, dragged to breathless depths by the fury of ultramarine waves. I saw the babies who’d come out of the deep, their cerulean serenity as they lay their cheek on mother’s breast, their lips on nipple tips, sweet like a breeze. Soon after, my dear, you shone on my chest.