All is Good

I am reawakened by a slap on my cheek. I open my eyes and see the younger doctor looking down at me. "Rise and shine!" he tells me. "You are now well enough to leave, and we need your bed for the next surrogate. You will be pleased to know that both yourself and your two implanted embryos are in excellent health."

That is good news, I think. Then I realise something. "Two?"

"Yes, it would be wasteful to only implant one into such a fit and healthy young woman as yourself. You should give birth in about five of your months. Now get up."

I realise that the IV line is no longer attached and that I no longer feel woozy. I get out of bed and stand facing the doctor.

1. I ask if I could have some clothes, and the doctor hands me a jumpsuit.
2. I ask if I could have some clothes. "You don't need clothes," the doctor tells me. I realise that he's right, of course.
3. Somehow I don't even think of asking for clothes. My mental reprogramming must have been very thorough.
4. Somehow I don't even think of asking for clothes, but he gives me a bra and a pair of panties.

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