June 16, 2015
29th & B
Today pp was a war zone.
Drivers of post-abortive women sat in their cars like army nurses waiting in the battlefields to nurse their family members back to life.
One by one the female clients exited like wounded soldiers who had escaped their enemy.
All of them being assisted to walk, slowly, painfully, grimacing and eventually inching their way to the car like war victims perforated by cold, steel, surgical instruments of death, our modern day weapons of war in the womb, suctioning, grasping until he breathes his final breath....
It was over, they thought.
The tiny, innocent babies tossed into red plastic buckets labeled human waste, modern day casualties of war in the womb of his mother. Inside, walls and floors drenched in blood, dismembered baby parts being pieced together like a puzzle, blood stained suction machines, groans, screams and crying from the room next door and the stench of death everywhere.
Yes, it was just another ordinary day in the land of choice.