Death’s Door

Original Writing

When you’re at death’s door and the IV drips are embedded into your veins, suddenly you realise you’ve never seen as many prayers and tears inside one building. A hospital ward becomes a church, with cries of anguish as the holy choir.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s