Don’t Worry, I Can Hear / A Certain Eve in Whale Ward—
In room 408 on the 4th floor of the West Wing, a woman was drawing her last breath.
Tubes extended from her body.
A transparent respirator became cloudy, and then clear again at slow intervals.
The man that was by her side held both of her hands tightly in his own.
He looked downwards.
“That book you lent me&h.e.l.lip; when should I return it?”
His voice shook.
There was no reply from the woman.
Life is a circle.
In room 209 on the 2nd floor of the West Wing, the tense air was dispersed in an instant by the warmth of a crying voice.
A new life had been born into the world.
In that moment, there was nothing that could hold back the woman who had just become a mother.
With all the power it had in its tiny hand, the baby refused to let go of its mother’s finger.
The mother wished for her child’s good health.
This was proof that no one in the world could surpa.s.s the absolute love she had for her child.
There could be no mistake.
Not in the fact that they shared the same blood, not in that tiny hand that held on with all its strength, not in the happiness that they shared. Not even in the misfortune.
Life is a circle.
There’s no such thing as an unwanted life.
—
A Certain Eve in Whale Ward
I think that hospitals are the places that deal with the most lives.
It’s like a huge ship, as well as a living soul in itself.
In a silent voice, it cries out louder than anything else.