A Maiden Transitioning Into Motherhood

There was a terroristic rain coming from the grey skies above in the land of Keene creating a sloppy setting where daily employees had to endure muddy conditions to put food on the table.

“I am good!” Screamed a maiden who had a special weight issue while licking an envelope making sure it was sealed completing the final obligation before heading into a labor responsibility, “I am officially off my turf,” she commented leaving the salary secured money making village inside the corporate environment.

Pressing the elevator button and immediately revealing a small stocking looking individual and not even a word was spoken the maiden with the special weight exploded, “enough already,” hearing in her mind a comment about showing.

Shrugging his shoulders the innocent target answered, “my dear maiden,” he started then paused, “I am a winning creative minister, and I came to this place for the paramount reason,”

Suddenly the conversation was interrupted when the doors to the lift opened releasing the two, “you were just a long shot town branch who was out of the money,” the maiden firmly stated walking onto the city street.

Seeing the sign “Emirates Road,” energized the maiden reminding her she was a winner.

That is when Royal Burgh, the Lanark appeared from nowhere making her screech, “Jeeper,” honestly showing an emotional shocking image

“I have cleared a space for you my dear so you can see through this new parental forest you are entering,” Royal Burgh continued running lines, “I am the Master of Arms and your new investment inside your biological bank will have a grip,”

Now having an interest, the maiden stopped on the concrete pavement that encompassed the metropolis jungle,

“What do you mean my offspring will have a strong grip on the situation?”

“Well, maiden with the special weight I am the Master of Arms,” Royal Burgh started preparing the situation for production.

“You,” the maiden retaliated, “the Master of Arms, huh, you are out of the money and your breath says you were on some bourbon heist during lunch in this skyscraper place.”

Deeply hurt Royal Burgh made himself disappear as the maiden went home hoping to see the sun and a more warming scene.

With the hour still early and the dreadful conditions changing into a sunny afternoon the maiden with the special weight grabbed an iced tea from the refrigerator and proceeded towards the patio seating. Sitting there the neighbor’s fourth grade daughter Monrovia caught her attention inserting a horseshoe stake into the ground.

“What are you doing?” the maiden inquired.

“Setting up to spend an afternoon with Momma,” Monrovia Marble replied.

“Oh, hi Brooke Marie,” a shout came from Alice Marble’s screen door “are you done with work, ready to be a mother?”

“Yep, I am officially on maternity leave, Alice,” Brooke Marie confirmed.

“Well, just like business Brooke Marie you are going to be a winning Mother,” Alice Marble predicted taking a second before starting to have fun with her offspring.

Only a few seconds later a car pulled up and Brooke’s husband emerged after being dropped off, “Toby, I am over here,” Brooke waved, and the notification was returned from the briefcase carrying gentleman.

Bypassing the front, Toby’s heart soon unleashed a loving hug and his wife welcomed it with an outstretched friendly gesture.

“We are going to be a family,” Brooke smiled holding back the fact she was making a sacrifice.

“I know,” Toby agreed sitting down and the memory of what made him a success came back.

While attending a mandatory office meeting at Moose Mitchell’s place the former semi pro football player explained a winning play called “Smugglers Run.”

“What in blazes are you showing us?” Toby remembered exclaiming.

“I am showing you a three-year-old plan that our cubicle buddy Cal bred,” Moose repeated and after hearing the echo Eddie put in his stake.

“Throw in a few musical numbers and you will have a hit,” Eddie knew what he was commenting about since he was a theater graduate.

Returning to the present Toby noticed the award for best musical displayed respectfully in the living room and started relaxing realizing his successful achievement until Brooke pleaded, “Toby it’s time,”

A few hours passed, and Royal Burgh was able to get to where the newborn babies slept at the hospital. Observing through the window he said under his breath, “yes my child I am the Master of Arms and either you will be able to work the system as a grip,” then paused finishing the pondering prophecy, “or know how to perform the all-important happy ending theatrical embrace.”