The Waiting Room: A Short Story
Published in Intima: A Journal of Narrative Medicine
This is a very special week for me: a short story I wrote was published in the journal Intima. This is my first piece of writing to be published, and I feel like I have crossed a sacred threshold into the world of “official writers.” It is very much a Big Deal (capital B, capital D) and I am so happy to share it with you.
I originally wrote this story in the months after Roe v. Wade was overturned. I knew my own beliefs, and the beliefs of the people around me, but I knew that this decision would also have devastating impacts on people across the country who were nothing like me — who had different political ideologies, values, and beliefs. I wrote this story about characters with whom I have very little in common; and yet, my heart goes out to them.
Below is a short excerpt of the story, and a link to read the full piece. I hope you like it.
The Waiting Room
Shruti Koti
Sitting in the waiting room feels like a crime. The cartoon animals that dance across the pale pink wallpaper are somehow reminiscent of his grade school teacher’s warnings of the fires of hell. His collar feels uncomfortably small around his neck, and his stubble scratching against his chin makes him aware he neglected to shave this morning.
He looks around at the other women sitting in the room. He had driven his car more than 50 miles to get here, but he can’t be sure that one of them won’t recognize him. They are all here alone. At least he hasn’t abandoned her in this – at least she isn’t sitting here alone. He isn’t sure if he should feel reassured by this, or ashamed.
When he first found out, he didn’t know how to react. She had told him one morning before his shift started, over scrambled eggs and coffee. He sat there, watching her twiddle her thumbs, unable to eat any more of his food. He remembered noticing, in that moment, how young she was. The skin near her eyes had only barely begun to wrinkle, and the sun-kissed freckles that were scattered across her nose made him think of strawberries in summertime. For the first time, he saw the rest of her life unfolding in slow motion – finishing her community college classes, saving up enough money to go to a four-year college to study design, eventually “making it in the big city” the way they had joked about when they were younger. And if they made it, if they lasted that whole time, he would join her, and they would learn how to be a family together. Until now, none of this was ever in doubt. They had taken it for granted.
What will you do? By the time he asked, the waitress had cleared the table and the check sat in front of them.