A to Z: Beginnings B

THEME: Short Stories - at least the beginnings thereof.
YOUR PART: Throw out words from the letter of the day and I'll pick some of them to include in the opening paragraphs of a short story.
WHY: I'm most inspired when there's a little challenge involved. Usually that means an opening line or a theme. This month: your words.

Each day I'll post the beginnings of a short story using some of the suggested words, As to when I'll end those stories...well, that's what the rest of the year is for.

So join in the comments with B words. names, places, moods, genres, things, whatever you want to throw at me. My creative bucket awaits.

While we're on B.... I'll share the newest addition to my family. This is Bitsy, our adorable little rescue dog. If you decide to buy a puppy, please remember that they grow up and require love, attention and food. This poor little two year old girl is so skinny her spine and ribs are still plainly visible even three weeks after being removed from her previous home. Her wounds have healed, and she's slowly putting on weight, learning how to play and settling in with our other dog who is teaching her how to enjoy being a dog.

Looking for more great blogs? Check out the massive A to Z blog challenge list.

~*~

Gina stared at the massive spread of food set out at the barbeque, wondering how on earth she was going to make it through the evening without exploding. A tiny foot pressed against her belly, protruding through her shirt like an alien crawling around inside her. She knew she should feel all warm and fuzzy about the baby, yearning to feel it in her arms, anxious for the day she could press it's little bald head against her cheek and inhale that baby smell. But she didn't.

She was sore all the time, and tired, and sick of feeling sick. Her mother and sisters wouldn't shut up about how happy they would be when she gave them a grandchild, a niece to cuddle with. They didn't understand her frustration with the fact that after tonight, she'd be bedridden for the rest of the pregnancy. A prisoner of the impending birth.

Bugs zipped around over the tables and the vast array of her extended family. Try as she might, she couldn't ignore their buzzing or the sensation that they all wanted to be in her face. She swatted them to no avail. 

There were many conversations going on around her at once, she couldn't focus on any one of them. It was as if they were all talking about her, looking at her.

The blueberry pie beside her reminded her of the color of the walls in the doctor's office. The office where she'd laid on the table as they impregnated her, where she'd willingly waited for them to put this thing inside her so she could get the fifteen thousand dollars the agency promised when she finished her nine month term.

Her mother smiled and beckoned Gina over. How was she going to tell her that there would be no grandchild, that the thing inside her was an investment? Fifteen thousand dollars was her rent for the next year a nice little vacation to help her forget this stupid idea. She should have thrown the agency brochure away. Now she was going to have to come up with something fast because her mother had given up with the waving and was heading over with a bulging blue and pink ribbon-festooned bag printed with pacifiers.

Bilious, Gina grabbed the bandana off her head and covered her face just as the first heave hit her.