I’m crossing the street, over 7 months pregnant. I’m hobbling, carrying thirty pounds of extra weight, weakened from an iron deficiency. A car rolls up to a stop sign to my right. When I’m halfway across the street, the driver starts honking. I’m walking too slowly. Then his car starts moving. He’s slamming his hand on the horn now. He’s speeding up now, his car pointed straight at my body.
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