Was it something she ate? She was late. Fate, it had been quite a wait.

Deep in her abdomen, the first sign of him emerged. Bundles of cells, brimming with life, converged.

Over dinner they courted, too late to be aborted, this lil’ guy was not to be thwarted. Nutrients from her body made him grow, larger and larger, she started to show.

Her stomach was sore, her insides tore, as the little man kept getting bigger. Her eat habits changed, as her slimy little digger, showed his inherited rigour.

She carried him long, she carried him far, her gait was stressed, she needed some rest. The day was now close, he’s coming, she knows, pushing out her end her new best friend.

Her insides adieu, he pulls his way through, and plop, that’s a rather large poo.

Like what you read? Give John McCarthy a round of applause.

From a quick cheer to a standing ovation, clap to show how much you enjoyed this story.