The Transplant (Story time)

Kosor could hear prayers offered on his behalf; untiring clappers and their earth rending chants and decrees, somewhere in the crowd Linda's sobs could still reach him somehow.

A streak of stale bitterness crawled from somewhere in his chest to the tip of his tongue, the slightly nauseating taste reminded him he was still bedridden in a hospital. The pain, though a miniature of the throbbing pangs he'd known, reminded him something as serious as kidney had been changed in him, that gladdened him.

He had wanted to wake up for Linda; to let her know all the loving and caring were not wasted, to let her know that staying alive on her kidney was the ultimate sacrifice she could make for their love, and he wouldn't let that fact slip from him or let death deny her the  satisfaction.

The unwavering faith of the prayer warrior team had humbled him too, how anyone could keep this intercession for hours on end was something he'd like learn once he got on his feet again. At first the doctor was reluctant but days after his patient couldn't regain consciousness, he had accepted to give faith a try.

He felt his lids tear apart, slowly. The men and women went ecstatic in praises, Linda, oh her sweet face, she was all over him in seconds but the nurses prevailed. Then he saw her. Slowly he felt himself losing consciousness, sinking back into dark clouds behind his head.

Behind the lids, he could still see the shadows of the people around, the joyful frenetics died down. The doctor thanked the prayer team and politely asked them to them to leave while he recovered.

Who is she? He had thought. There was something about the teenage girl sitting all by herself at the corner of the room, she had shared a terrifying moment's stare with him...