Hunger

By Cathy Caudill

The muscles contract, and the sides sear with pain. The stomach writhes in agony, searching for something—but there is nothing—to digest. This shriveled organ cannot fight its duties; the reservoir of acid and bile must break down the food—the food needed to sustain the body. It seeks nourishment in vain. The body shivers and jolts in panic—with one final cry, the stomach turns and begins to consume itself. The bitter acid sloshes and corrodes the ill-fated tissue of the wall, racing to release the minerals down the tunnel and into the bloodstream. But the child will be dead before this can do him any good. Lying on the ground, curled into a fetal position—in this pose he was conceived—in this pose he will depart.