The song of the Unborn

Suspended in darkness like nothingness awareness is born. Red
light streams through, lights up all, and then fades. Warmth is felt, in swift
caressing touches.

  Behind all the ever
present rhythm whoosh whoosh whoosh never
changing with the light. Intermittent gurgling comes and goes bringing new
tastes and renewed energy. Other sounds are heard, a quick and high soprano
nonsense, a deep and resonating reassuring bass. A world of music and darkness
and streaming red light, all is perfect.



But it is getting a little cramped in here….







This was written when I saw someone say that they had tried to write a story from a baby's point of view, without using "I". He was right of course, the unborn probably don't think using "I". I wish I could remember who it was, so I could thank them for the writing prompt.