WHIRLPOOL 

By Tessa Harvey


    Weary, the young paramedic leaned against his door, sodden and bone-tired. Sandra opened the door for him. Anna shrieked with delight. He smiled. "Dada! Dada! You wet. Eww." His wife handed him towels. "Fresh clothes in the laundry. The heater's on. Soup ready to go."
    Anna toddled after, dark curls bouncing. "Soo poo here," she burbled. Archie laughed, "and Arch wee." Archie's bottom lip wobbled.
    They were wrapped in too-big clothes, watching cartoons on TV.
"Don't be rude, Anna," chided her mum. Anna subsided. She crept close to the couch, snuggling between the other two children.
    "Is Thomas saved?" Susan's voice shook. "Yes," called Aaron from the laundry. "Dad and mum went to the hospital with him for a bit."
    He came out dressed, the washing machine filling up as he shut the laundry door. He helped Sandra with soup and sandwiches. "I will phone soon.

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