Between Tomorrow and Tomorrow
Mom finishes her kung pow chicken and finds no fortune in the cookie. Then the labor pains kick in all over her like an other worldly chain reaction of earthquakes that will not be stopped. She gives birth right there in the food court.
There was no thunder, no glowing doorway, no mysterious wind blowing through the apartment, and no choir of angels politely alerting me that physics had submitted its resignation.
The deck simply felt heavier.