She held the onesie close and inhaled that sweet, sweet fragrance of baby-ness – all powder and drool and innocence and gurgles. She folded it precisely across and once more, and then reached for the matching booties – she could almost feel the tiny toes flailing around inside, tender and pink, like fluffy little clouds.
That was when her chest constricted and breathing became difficult; she threw everything else into the bag haphazardly and shoved it into her maid's arms - her Aarav wasn’t around anymore, was he? Not for her to hold or love or dress up in tiny shoes.
***
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| GO PURPLE RAIN GO!! |
