Read Online Genesis: A science-fiction short story. by Jenna Inouye - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jenna Inouye
Ads: Link
and pushes the pad in the slit of the glass, looking away. At the other end of the window, an older man impassively takes the pad from her.
“You’re now number 23, please wait your turn,” he says, not looking up from his touch screen. Sylvia nods , sits down on the hard plastic, 3D printed chair, and waits. She shifts in her chair; it seems that they make them to be intentionally uncomfortable.
There are over two dozen other women in the room; a few with men, but most not. They are all aged between 21 and 29. Some of them look worried, some look frightened; some look bored, and some look eager.
Sylvia knows that the way they look signifies very little regarding what is actually going on in their mind. She has been in this room enough, now, and apart from two other women, she appears to be the oldest.
“12,” calls the man over the intercom system; an antiquated relic that crackles and pops. “12.”
A young woman with light brown hair and deep brown eyes jumps up, nervously, almost spilling the contents of her purse. She wears a small, yellow sundress and despite her age she looks barely out of her teens.
She collects her things and then races up to the window; Sylvia can hear here talking now, but can’t hear the contents of the conversation. She doesn’t really want to; she’s just so nervous that she’s grasping for anything to do.
Most of the women around her are looking at their phones, or speaking with their partners—if they have a partner present. No one speaks to each other. There is nothing they could say to each other that they don’t already know.
The girl disappears into the back, led down a small hall of cubicles. She bounces lightly; Sylvia wonders if that’s the way she looked, her first time.
“13,” calls the man over the intercom system, and then he stands and waves another clerk over to his desk. The other clerk, a younger man, takes over automatically. “13.”
Her name had been Kathleen Cardoff, and she was 27 years of age. That, of course, wasn’t the remarkable part. Kathleen Cardoff had, in her life, never been with a man; she did not doubt this as it had been quite an emotional blight upon her for some time.
It wasn’t that she was very unattractive, or very overweight or very shy. It was simply that she was a little unattractive, a little overweight and a little shy. These things together had created the perfect storm of imperfection. She could hardly point to a part of herself that she was satisfied of or confident in.
When she began displaying the tell-tale signs of pregnancy, she had no choice but to write it off as motion sickness at first, and then the flu much later. The irregularity of her menstrual cycle was not unusual for her, and it was only when she began to show, she became alarmed.
At first, Kathleen suspected that she might have some form of tumor; her medical practitioner, naturally, immediately saw the classic symptoms of pregnancy.
An older man who valued his clients as though they were friends and family, he gent ly explained to Kathleen that not all methods of birth control were effective. To him, this happened all the time; young women who were just a little too unaware of their bodies.
An inkling of doubt rose up in the doctor’s mind when he discovered that Kathleen was still physically a virgin; but that wasn’t actually entirely unusual , in his experience.
Much has been said, won and lost over virginity for thousands of years, but it’s always been a fairly nebulous thing; as a doctor, he knew, that it was rare but possible that Kathleen had simply not ruptured her hymen during intercourse.
The doctor tried to assuage all of Kathleen’s nervousness and anxiety by letting her know that she was going to have a healthy child. Kathleen, naturally, could not accept the fact that she was having a child at all.
Kathleen went home that day feeling confused; she had no idea why this was happening to her and, when it came down to it, she
“You’re now number 23, please wait your turn,” he says, not looking up from his touch screen. Sylvia nods , sits down on the hard plastic, 3D printed chair, and waits. She shifts in her chair; it seems that they make them to be intentionally uncomfortable.
There are over two dozen other women in the room; a few with men, but most not. They are all aged between 21 and 29. Some of them look worried, some look frightened; some look bored, and some look eager.
Sylvia knows that the way they look signifies very little regarding what is actually going on in their mind. She has been in this room enough, now, and apart from two other women, she appears to be the oldest.
“12,” calls the man over the intercom system; an antiquated relic that crackles and pops. “12.”
A young woman with light brown hair and deep brown eyes jumps up, nervously, almost spilling the contents of her purse. She wears a small, yellow sundress and despite her age she looks barely out of her teens.
She collects her things and then races up to the window; Sylvia can hear here talking now, but can’t hear the contents of the conversation. She doesn’t really want to; she’s just so nervous that she’s grasping for anything to do.
Most of the women around her are looking at their phones, or speaking with their partners—if they have a partner present. No one speaks to each other. There is nothing they could say to each other that they don’t already know.
The girl disappears into the back, led down a small hall of cubicles. She bounces lightly; Sylvia wonders if that’s the way she looked, her first time.
“13,” calls the man over the intercom system, and then he stands and waves another clerk over to his desk. The other clerk, a younger man, takes over automatically. “13.”
Her name had been Kathleen Cardoff, and she was 27 years of age. That, of course, wasn’t the remarkable part. Kathleen Cardoff had, in her life, never been with a man; she did not doubt this as it had been quite an emotional blight upon her for some time.
It wasn’t that she was very unattractive, or very overweight or very shy. It was simply that she was a little unattractive, a little overweight and a little shy. These things together had created the perfect storm of imperfection. She could hardly point to a part of herself that she was satisfied of or confident in.
When she began displaying the tell-tale signs of pregnancy, she had no choice but to write it off as motion sickness at first, and then the flu much later. The irregularity of her menstrual cycle was not unusual for her, and it was only when she began to show, she became alarmed.
At first, Kathleen suspected that she might have some form of tumor; her medical practitioner, naturally, immediately saw the classic symptoms of pregnancy.
An older man who valued his clients as though they were friends and family, he gent ly explained to Kathleen that not all methods of birth control were effective. To him, this happened all the time; young women who were just a little too unaware of their bodies.
An inkling of doubt rose up in the doctor’s mind when he discovered that Kathleen was still physically a virgin; but that wasn’t actually entirely unusual , in his experience.
Much has been said, won and lost over virginity for thousands of years, but it’s always been a fairly nebulous thing; as a doctor, he knew, that it was rare but possible that Kathleen had simply not ruptured her hymen during intercourse.
The doctor tried to assuage all of Kathleen’s nervousness and anxiety by letting her know that she was going to have a healthy child. Kathleen, naturally, could not accept the fact that she was having a child at all.
Kathleen went home that day feeling confused; she had no idea why this was happening to her and, when it came down to it, she
Similar Books
