When I got back to the office, Mick was sitting on the front steps, beaming. She said to me, “I’m thirteen weeks pregnant and all is well! My baby has fingerprints. Fingerprints. They’re unique, they set you apart from everyone else. I can’t tell you how happy that makes me.” I asked her to explain. Mick told me her child would be like her, but still completely her own person. It gave her great hope her child wouldn’t make the mistakes she had made.
Today I will be grateful the next generation may not repeat their parents’ mistakes.
Writing My New Story © 2015 by Ken Montrose
(Just a reminder: Writing My New Story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to anyone you might know is purely coincidental.)