Mary sat with her hands on her belly waiting for it to move again. Surely it had been her imagination? Or just indigestion--she'd eaten a lot of pickles after all. Though she was oddly firm, nothing else kicked her, so she dismissed it. "Must've been nothing," she said as she was suddenly hit with more intense cravings.
Mint chocolate chip ice cream smothered in gravy.
Scrambled eggs with watermelon.
Spaghetti with mayonnaise on bread.
Oreos with mustard.
As soon as one craving passed, a new one would hit, and soon Mary was staring at bare cupboards and an empty refrigerator. She went back to the sofa and flopped down, feeling heavy.
And she was, indeed, heavier, but not with fat. Her belly bulged even more now, almost the size of a large beach ball, and she rested her hands on top of it contentedly. It should have terrified her, but she felt strangely peaceful, even when several somethings kicked at her again. She couldn't dismiss these: she was staring at her bare belly and saw it move with each kick. A knowing smile spread across her face: it was the vials.
The mere thought of the vials put a craving for them in her head. Hefting her heavy body off the sofa, she placed her hands on the small of her back and waddled to the bathroom where she'd left them, considering.