Tranche de Vie: Comfort

I threw my bag the moment I entered the room; and crashed face first into my pillow. I took a deep breath in and closed my eyes. No sooner had I closed my eyes; I could feel his presence at the door.

"Mahid", I called for him in my tired state as I stretched my hand out for his.

I could hear the door close and lock latch. I was engulfed in his warm embrace seconds later. His arms wrapped around me; his hands resting around my waist. I could feel myself relax as I leaned my body close to his.

"The kids...", I mumbled.

I didn't need to say anything else as his gentle squeeze of my hand was answer enough. A mass casualty event affects everyone in the community not just the hospitals. As Mufti, I know he had been knee-deep in it as me rallying the community for the blood drive along with setting up food and shelter for those working the incident and the families affected.

The warmth of him is enough to wash away the horrors of the outside world.

He is my comfort, my home, MY Mahid.