C52 DESIRABLE TEARS.

MILES:

Tossing and turning, I felt cold and soft sheets under me. Cotton of some sort. The atmosphere was filled with the aroma of something cooking with coconut. Maybe rice. I sniff and inhaled to take in every line of the smell. A baby began to fuss, crying. I have no babies. Maybe I was imagining things, I laughed at myself. The cry became louder, and it turned into two babies