Sarah

You are sitting on your last flight of the day, impatiently scrolling on your phone. You wish everyone else would hurry up and board so that you can get home and relax ASAP. Just as your mind starts to wander to how you might spend your first night with some privacy after a two-week family reunion, you feel a rapid, almost aggressive, tapping on your shoulder.
Your eyes whip up from your phone to see who this transgressor of your personal space is, but only make it part way along their path. Your vision is quickly filled (as is most of the aisle) by the most perfect baby bump you have ever seen. It is incredibly spherical, the taught skin pristine and unblemished with a glow to it that seems like the light of the sun in the dim boarding lights of the plane.
You almost feel unworthy of beholding this divinely gravid orb, but its owner's choice of attire quickly absolves you from guilt. Her travel outfit of choice consists of a large green hoodie that has been cropped ambitiously close to the bottom curve of her breasts. The logo of your local college is stretched tight across the front, distorted by the milk-swollen orbs resting atop her belly. Her modesty is only then resumed by an old ill-fitting pair of skinny jeans that were clearly never meant to be maternity wear, leaving her entire swollen middle on display to the world.
Hello! Hello! She calls out in the cheeriest tone ever heard on a commercial flight. Can you put my bag up for me? I'm not allowed to lift things.
Silky blonde strands of hair that have fallen out of a messy bun frame an angelic face as she giggles and flashes a big smile your way.