Winter's Bite

phoebe Sleep and I shall soothe you, calm you, and annoint you Too late? Never. Phoebe was a midwife and babies did not know what time was or was not. She was available all hours of the day or night without exception (well, maybe if she was dying or something). Extreme situations aside, there was no real way to be too late. Besides. Phoebe lived above her practice anyways. She had been fussing around the clinic when she heard a knock. Goodness, people were going to have to learn to just let themselves in! Maybe once some panicking papas had a laboring woman waiting on them they would learn. The young midwife made her way to the door, dressed in a light dress, thick tresses up in a messy bun atop her head. She was surprised to see Isla there. ”Oh! Miss Isla, welcome! Do come in!” she said, stepping aside so the medic could enter. She would see the fruits of Phoebe and gang’s labor: the room was cozy and warm, with a blazing fire lighting everything in a soft glow. Calming incense and brewed teas filled the air with a soothing, homey scent. There were a few plush couches with pillows and throw blankets, little rugs to ward off the chill of the hardwood floor. The curtains in the back indicated the individual rooms she had, equally cozy as the main space. By no means was this an ordinary clinic. ”What brings you this evening?” Phoebe asked in her bright, friendly way.