Positive

1 minute.

Bleakness pervades her vision and her heart.  Her eyelids glide over the slick surface of pregnant tears.  The coldness of the white marble stings like brand new stitches.

2 minutes.

Reality crawls from left to right dirtying the glaring whiteness of her future, leaving only a pale yellow streak.  There is an acidic taste left in her mouth as waves of cramps grip her abdomen.  She cradles her aching head against her naked forearms.

3 minutes.

Slashes of blue, pink set off against the urine yellow background.  Her sight escapes her momentarily.  Lines crossing, merging, one becoming two becoming three becoming two.  She shifts slightly on the smooth, solid surface of the unforgiving lip of the tub.

4 minutes.

Her hands flutter to her throat and her belly.  Devastation spread out before her much like the upcoming months stretching into nothingness.  Waves of exhaustion, depression beat against her temples.  She slides to the floor clutching the offending wand praying that with a flick this will all go away.