As most h2g2ers know, the Alternative Writing Workshop is a fund of fascinating works in progress, a forum where h2g2 writers meet, greet, read, critique, and generally tease the life out of each other.

Recently, Cactuscafe poured inspirational fuel on the prose fires with her story entitled Grasshoppers in the Park. Soon everybody was grasshoppering around. The results were so good, we thought we'd share them with a wider audience.

Minorvogonpoet, like Magwitch, chose to rip out our heartstrings with a few well-chosen words. Read this poignant take on a suggestive phrase.

When I discovered I was pregnant, it didn’t feel real. I hadn’t had much to do with babies, what with studying and then working full time. Would I know how to look after a baby? I watched young mothers with buggies cluttered with nappies and felt anxious.

Then I felt the baby move and it suddenly became a him. I was sure he was a boy, because of the way he moved around. He kicked, punched and jumped. That is when Lee came up with the nickname: Grasshopper.

So when Grasshopper stopped moving, I knew that there was something wrong. The staff at the hospital did a scan and told me what I dreaded to hear.

“I’m sorry, there’s no sign of a heartbeat. The baby must have died.”

I sat there in the hospital cubicle, listening to other mothers talking about their babies and felt totally lost. How could I go through labour, when I knew my baby was dead? I didn’t know how to make sense of my life any longer. All I could do was think of my little Grasshopper.

Poetry and Stories by minorvogonpoet Archive

Minorvogonpoet

22.11.10 Front Page

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