KweenOfTheFae

MC stood stiffly in the centre of the desolate park. The frigid cold was not the only perpetrator of her violent shivering. It was snowing. Heavy clumps of white floated down from the grey overcast sky giving the illusion the whole world was covered in vanilla cake frosting. Her small dainty hand clasped the handle of a bright red umbrella (the only splash of colour to be seen), her fingers pink and raw from the bitter chill. Her other hand lay resting on the large swell of her belly poking through the heavy layers of knitted jumpers. Even all that wool couldn’t hide the belly that told anyone she passed that she was in her third trimes