Clothing must be purchased at a Walmart a few towns away, in a city an hour away, or online. Just another of the 4,724 reasons I want to escape this town.
It's March, and I'm gigantic. I spend most of the day horizontal on the sofa before turning in early to bed. I slide from the sofa with the grace of an elephant. Slowly, I waddle towards the restroom. The urge to pee grows with each step.
“Alma!" I call. When she peeks into the hallway from the kitchen where she is fixing dinner, I inform her I just peed myself.
As she nears, Alma states it's not urine—my water broke. She turns me towards the front door. “Go! I'll meet you in the van."
As I waddle, she quickly grabs our purses and my overnight bag. I make my way to the porch, down the steps, toward her car. As I open the passenge
