Grieving Mothers

They stand in sequence, not by choice but by design—bodies attached to machinery that denied any comfort. Each mother is fixed in place, her movement narrowed to what production allows, her world reduced to steel rails, timed rotations, and the ache of her missing newborn. She feels the absence constantly, a pressure that does not resolve, a pull that goes nowhere. The curve they follow is efficient, continuous, and mercilessly calm and accepted.