In my haste to go to the clinic, I forgot to eat breakfast. If Mom was alive, she would bombard my ears with lectures for neglecting my health and her grandchild's.
Walking under the beautiful morning sky, I made my way to a nearby bakery. The distance between the bakery and the building where the clinic was located was only a stone's throw away and yet I had to catch my breath when I arrived. It seemed that my body was now easily tired.
I fumbled inside my bag until I found my handkerchief and used it to wipe the beads of sweat on my temples before dropping it inside my bag again.
Looking at the mouth-watering pastries displayed on the transparent glass, I asked the woman standing on the counter for a slice of cake, a vegetable sandwich, and a bottle of mineral water. I found a comfortable spot in front of the window to enjoy my breakfast. The food I ordered was not what someone would call an ideal breakfast, but it would be enough to silence my growling stomach.
