Hugged tightly inside your mother's oversized stomach, sloshing with every movement, you start to kick and roll. Anything to either get out or wake her up. Air is your main concern...apparently she swallowed a lot with you, but that belch reduced it.
After a minute, your perseverance pays off. And a good thing...it's getting very hot, and the stomach walls are grinding down harder in an effort to absorb you. You feel your environs shift a little, then pressure from her hand. At first she can't figure out what happened....then she sees your tattered clothes.
"Oh no! Mary! Are you all right?"
"No!" You have to yell at the top of your lungs to be heard at all, but that's no problem in your panicked state. "Let me out! How did you do this?" Another pat comes from her hand. She's sitting up now, rubbing her immense tummy. There's another, smaller burp.
"It's something all the women in our family can do. I was hoping to tell you when you turned eighteen." At this rate, you may not have an eighteen.
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