Transformed

Carol watched the glass fall. It slid from her fingers and descended past the counter’s edge, past her swelling belly and swollen ankles to crash on the kitchen’s tile floor. The hand that had recently held the glass fluttered up to touch her face, as though affirming that it was still there. It hadn’t suddenly changed like everything else that she thought she knew.

She eased herself down to a crouch and began collecting the chunks and shards resting in puddles of once sparkling water. She carefully laid them in her hand, one by one, until she’d gathered them all. There was no way to restore the glass to its original condition, much like her life.

Stepping over the water she walked to the trash bin and dumped the glass inside. The last piece to slide from her hand left a thin scratch, quickly rimmed with red. She might not escape this situation unchanged, but perhaps she would become more distinct, sharper in some way. Only time would tell.