She knew that cookie dough was a risk. But it was a risk she willingly took.
The returns were not worth the investment, however.
Her stomach clenched, knotted, crumpled and then --
She'd never given birth, but this had to come close in terms of discomfort.
Not pain. It couldn't quite be described as such.
Discomfort. The kind that makes you want to moan and collapse on the floor.
The cookie dough tasted good, but not the second time around.
Nothing like illness to humble a person.
It was good though. This humility.
She needed to take a break from life, even if it meant a break that resembled being squashed under a piano.
At least it was quiet.
Her mind was strangely soothed, her cares blurred, her emotions diluted.
Nothing else mattered. It was just her and her stomach. And that cookie dough.
Thanks cookie dough.