Chapter 6 - then

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Marion. Grey, crushed rock. Five month's pregnant, she enjoyed wearing stretchy black fabric over her belly to draw as much attention to her condition as possible. She brought me flowers from the shop downstairs and put them in a vase.

'Mother didn't sleep last night, she was too worried,' she said.

My mother lived in the constant fear of being called by Dr Olnivac and told that her microchip had alerted him of onset cancer or heart disease or parkinsons or motor neuron disease. 'She wanted me to be here when you got your results,' she said. My sister was a rep for a pharmaceutical company, so she was my mother's go-to person for anything medical.

'How was the operation?' she asked, lowering herself into a chair, with one hand over her belly.

'It was fine. I didn't feel a thing.' I said. 'It's kind of a strange, having all these people working on me and not having a clue about it.' Marion massaged her belly.

She let out a sigh. 'I've been so tired lately, I'm already not sleeping well.' Throughout her pregnancy, she'd been too lethargic, too nausous, too heavy, couldn't eat what she wanted, couldn't drink coffee, couldn't lie on her stomach in the sun. It was as though she was the first woman ever to be pregnant.

I thought she looked more beautiful than she'd ever been. The fluid in her face had given her appearance a softness. I was jealous of her belly, of the way it almost floated in the air. The one time she asked if I wanted to touch it, I was amazed at how hard her stomach felt, like a cocoon of steel protecting her growing baby. Her belly button had popped out and through the stretchy fabric she wore it looked like a round button one could press, 'eject here for little baby'.

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