Mother And Child Glass Doors Essay - 973 words

As Ms. Mallard uneasily sat in the waiting room, she watched the hustle of people as they scurried in and out of the clinic doors. The ring of the bell above the door sang like wind chimes on a blustery day. She stared at a mother and child across the magazine table as they flipped through an old and badly torn edition of Highlights. From the short distance she could tell that the child was around three or four years old and the mother was expecting in a few months.


Mom was in good health and it showed from the glow in her face and eyes. Jason, as she learned the child's name from her distant observation, was also full of energy and squealed with delight every time his mother would place his tiny hand on her stomach to feel the baby kick. Mom was most likely due in for a check up, since she showed no signs of apparent illness. She watched intently as the couple joyfully pointed to the pages in the magazine and laughed as each of them found a different hidden picture.


The scene was almost painful for her and she found herself becoming jealous of this seemingly perfect life that was playing out in front of her. She quickly examined the contents of her purse and looked back up at the woman and child. She caught herself giving them an amoral glare and forced herself to look away again. She felt disgust in her character and questioned her own integrity for the thoughts that were running rampant in her head.


She repositioned herself in the rigidly uncomfortable chair and tried to remain calm while she sat in the crowded waiting room. As she sat, she heard the distant sound of a police car's siren and turned to look out the dirty glass doors of the clinic. As she looked out of the doors and across the street she saw a homeless man clad in a pair of soiled filthy jeans, more than one flannel shirt and a stained overcoat. As he held out his hand and a bent coffee cup, asking for spare change, she glanced down at her own clothes. She wore a nicely fitting calfskin skirt with matching boots that went up to her knees and a tight white blouse that hinted at her cleavage. The purse on her lap was black leather with an over flap to close it.


She continued to stare out of the doors, not really looking at anything anymore, but more so in a deep thought that consumed her consciousness. Images were running through her head at what seemed to be a million miles an hour: Old pictures of her own mother and father when she was just a baby, and then later ones that only contained her mother and she. She remembered flashes of the d ...................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

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Essay Tags: glass doors, looked back, mother and child, doors, waiting room

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