The Witch House Of Persimmon Point - Plot & Excerpts
She’d labored in her mother’s bedroom because that’s what Nan said she should do. Something about God and Sin and being unmarried. The window was open, letting the winter in. She needed the air. The first snow collected in delicate layers on the wide, wooden sill. Earlier, when the pains were coming farther apart, Lucy went to the bedroom window and held her hands against its icy glass to cool them off. The cold beneath her palms was lovely, it calmed her. She watched the dancing snow and wished she could be standing in it, letting it glitter in her hair, letting it clear the antiseptic, old-woman smell of the midwife from her nose. She wanted the snow whirling all around her, in her, through her. She knew that if she could just get out into the snowy night, all would be well. When the pains came on stronger, with no relief or pause, she began to panic. She opened the window, struggling to unstick it from its frame. She felt a fleeting sense of victory when it lurched open, and she breathed in the night.
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