She was stuck in the best kind of way. At the corner end of the café counter, the warmth of the coffee machine complementing the cool water she sipped. The smell of fresh macadamia muffins and vegetable frittata straight out the oven wafted around her morning and she relaxed her shoulders. The rain fell from the sky, forcing her to look out the window and calculate just how wet she would get if she tried to walk to the car. Dare she leave? She rested her hand on the mighty movements of limbs rolling around in her overconfident belly, the rise and fall of her fingers as each one felt the full force of a tiny human. Leaning back into her cushioned chair she sat, still and quiet.
Dare she leave, when she was stuck in the best kind of way?
FlyInMyWine 