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clinic - jd clapp

After doing a bump on the dash, Gina lit a Marlboro light, and stepped out of Big Rhett’s truck. Before she closed the door, Rhett looked over at her and said, “This is the last time. You’re getting’ one last chance… for our babies.”

“I swear it, Rhett,” she said.

She made her way to the back entrance. She forgot her coat but didn’t notice the cold or grain-sized snow pelting her. She thought about getting her hair done that afternoon in one of those Columbus salons. I’m getting me one of those hombres, she thought.

The thinner woman wearing the baby blue puffy parka with faux rabbit trim approached her first. “Baby killer!” she yelled in Gina’s face. Her heavier companion tugged the cross and American flag printed on her hoody away from her bowling ball breasts.

“Abortion is anti-Jesus and anti-American,” she said in a loud voice.

“Fuck y’all!” Gina said, then flicked the half-smoked grit at the taller woman.

“Whore!” yelled the tall woman.

“At least my pussy works you dried up old bitches,” Gina shot back.

Before she walked in the door, an elderly woman smiled at her and handed her a pamphlet. “I’ll pray for you honey,” she said.

“Thank you ma’am.”


Inside, Gina tossed the pamphlet on the pile of all the other discarded pamphlets left by women who had come in before her that morning. Let’s get this done with, she thought as she approached the check in desk.


JD Clapp writes in San Diego, CA. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Wrong Turn Literary, Café Lit, Fleas on the Dog, The Whisky Blot, among several others. His story, One Last Drop, was a finalist in the 2023 Hemingway Shorts Literary Journal, Short Story Competition.

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