Tragedy, 1912.
an excerpt

The day was April 11th, 1912. A group of two young women and an older man made their way through the throng. All around them came the shouts of those begging for a ticket aboard the vessel. Those without tickets bewailed their misfortune. Those with tickets seemed willing to pay great quantities of money to switch their own tickets from steerage to second class, or from second class to first.

“Out of our way,” the man said as loudly as he could through clenched teeth. It would be a few moments before they could step out of the crowd and onto the safety of the ramp that led to the entrance. “Get out of our way!”

He pushed pass those without tickets with a disgusted sneer, being careful to make sure that no one really touched the sleeve of his coat. Any man, woman, or child that saw his imposing figure or sweep of his arm backed away, also careful not to touch him.

Before them lay the most astounding visage any of them had ever seen. One of the girls ignored the majestic sight, clinging as tightly as she could to the man, while the other started blankly at it. The first shot her hazel eyes around in paranoia, silently praying to herself that she would not be rushed by those without tickets or money to buy one. The other clasped her reticule to her chest with delight, her eyes shining from both amazement and the bright light of the sun.

“She’s enormous,” Grace murmured to herself, her brown eyes tilted at a nearly impossible angle to take the scene in.

The blonde standing before her whipped around at the comment and had to grasp onto her husband in an attempt to regain her balance. Beneath the sage green layers of her dress, there was a hefty bump that put on show her delicate condition. “Beg pardon?” she asked, to which Grace gave a little laugh. Amelia had only begun to hear every instance the words “enormous,” “big,” or “huge” after she had realized that she was pregnant.

Grace motioned one of her gloved hands toward the ship in front of them, and Amelia’s cheeks flushed. Her husband, a tall man named Victor, patted her on the shoulder and encouraged her forward with care. His bright blue eyes flashed at Grace, a laughing flash that he would not share at the expense of his beloved wife.

“I meant the ship, dear,” Grace apologized, placing her hand on Amelia‘s shoulder. “I should have called her by name, certainly.”