Tomorrow will be a better day

The prompt for this piece was rather tricky. I struggled quite a bit with the tense, as well as sticking to including all the words.

Random selections by all members rendered the following results:

Starts with: Lately I have been unable to tolerate

Setting: On a blind date

Vocabulary to include: book, quill, pregnant, miniature and wine

Lately I have been unable to tolerate the way my unborn child has been frivolously toying with my emotions.

'It's your hormones, not your child," my gynaecologist tried to explain to me numerous times. All this science stuff never made any sense to me. I wish it had, then at least I would have interpreted the basic functionality of the condom accurately.

Education had always been a tough sell to me. I had failed and dropped out in the ninth grade. I kept promising myself that I would go back to finish, but I had to factor in all that time for procrastination.

I finally agreed to employ some other distraction methods from my bloating belly. My best friend, who goes by her stripper name even on her off days - Hot Cocoa (because of her rich dark complexion) - set me up on a blind date with one of her less greasy clients. He was twelve years my senior, collected ancient miniature dolls and drank only wine. He sounded fancy.

"You'll like 'im. He don't grab like the rest of 'em. He also got a thing for woman with child," she added.

We agree to meet at a nearby Chinese restaurant. He saunters in twenty minutes late - pot bellied, slightly balding and round faced - holding daisies and a souvenir quill pen. I get up to say hello and his gaze is immediately directed towards my blossoming belly.

"Presents for the new mommy," he drawls, spittle forming at the corners of his mouth.

My pregnancy has made me sensitive to strong floral smells so whilst I make a dash for the bathroom, the restaurant manager disposes off the daisies. A post-mortem on the date results in the conclusion that it was a sufficient disaster.

I threw up twice, he tried to desperate grab at me several times each resulting in me slapping his chubby wrist, and finally he managed to get drunk enough to fall off his chair.

I went home that night, made myself a cup of hot cocoa and sat in front of the television stroking my belly. My child was arriving in three months. Ever since I was able to make decisions I seemed to pick the wrong path. The child deserved a real father, and a mother who was not a miserable screw up. I picked up the remaining cocoa and poured it in the sink. I started up the computer and finished the appeal letter for my re-enrolment. Tomorrow will be a better day.