Screaming comes from the the room next door.

‘A baby’s being born?’ one asks, joy laced in each word.

‘Could be someone’s last scream.’ the other said, voice muffled beneath the blanket covering her body.

‘Don’t say that.’ the first voice scolded. Her eyes wide in alarm. ‘Where’s your optimism?’

‘We’re in a bloody hospital.’ they said flatly. ‘There’s no optimism here.’

‘Optimistic, pessimistic.’ the nurse huffed out sadly. ‘There’s no middle ground with you two.’