The pregnant lady sitting in the swivel chair at the salon section shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
The manicurist attending to my nails looked at her. “Aunty, you want water?”
“No, thank you.” The lady replied.
“Are you okay?” The manicurist asked; concern written on her face.
The pregnant lady smiled and shifted again; probably trying to find a comfortable position. “Yes, I am fine. Thank you.”
I looked at the pregnant lady and weird ideas for a story just flew into my head. I grinned as my imagination went on overdrive.
I imagined the lady drove to the salon herself.
I imagined this being her first pregnancy and being a little anxious and naive.
I imagined her water breaking while she sat there and going into panic mode immediately.
I imagined me telling her to calm down while I asked for her car keys.
I imagined the whole salon suddenly going abuzz with the salon attendants running helter-skelter wondering what to do and how to help.
I imagined the lady puffing and panting as tears streamed down her cheeks.
I imagined myself driving with crazy speed to the hospital where she was registered (after getting the information from her).
I imagined one of the salon attendants calling her husband through her phone and explaining the situation to him.
I imagined us (myself and one of the salon attendants) waiting patiently in the hospital (after she had been taken into the labour ward) till the arrival of her husband.
I imagined her husband arriving at the hospital with worry lines deeply etched on his forehead.
I imagined her husband calling me hours later that his wife had been delivered of a baby.
I smiled and shook my head as my mind ran different thoughts.
I guess this is one of the reasons I call my mind a creative machine 😄
Photo Credit: http://www.pinterest.com