What follows is in response to the 100 Word Challenge, authored by the desirable VelvetVerbosity.
In the city, the thin wail of the baby echoes around the small room. He was born drug addicted and he is hungry. There is no food and his mother is dry. He was born to it.
In the countryside, a starving young woman whose baby has died drags herself to the Free Clinic, hoping to find food. She has had it thrust upon her.
In the mountains, the old miner is slowly dying of black lung disease. Since the mines closed up, he can't afford care. It just wasn't anything he expected.
Given a name, the 'it' is Want.
I had several different thoughts for this challenge. I thought to tell a story of a young man in the throes of youthful lust. I thought also of a little kid in the toy store who's just seen the toy of the century and tries to impress on the unlucky parent just how much he wants that toy. But I thought that perhaps it might serve a better purpose to paint these little mental vignettes of WANT, because some wants go unmet. And perhaps they shouldn't. Can you hear me, George? Dubya, are you there?