Devilish

THOMAS IS NOT YOUR CHILD.…

The full-blown tubby woman halted in her stride. Her stumpy feet withered in her shoes. The heat barrelling below her skirt, and trickling down her thighs wasn't an actual discomfort. It was the churn in her stomach and the ache in her throat that made her want to scream out loud. Not at the clean grasses twirling about her heels, nor the view of the hard workers breaking their backs in that hour tilling the soil. She wanted to bark at the world. At life. Dammit! She was in fact a barren woman. Fruitless. Well-stricken in age. And having no use. That bit was true about her life. Louisa had not told a lie regarding what she said.