cabbages

I was pregnable once,_ Merill thought to contribute. She remembered how troublesome it made getting around, having a ripe belly. Couldn__ roll properly, couldn__ hop properly, couldn__ romp or flop properly. There were the cravings for roasted cabbage__he loathed cabbage, with its leaves and growing in rows. And labor! Merill passed out during childbirth. She__ endured burns, lacerations, rips, serrated teeth, nails, hooks and a trove of unmentionable harm-inflictors. Labor trounced them all and wriggled gleefully in the spray of blood and gore. __eing pregnable is no good. No good at all. Like growing a bitter melon in your belly.