I'm in a modern dance troupe. I'm a shortish muscular woman with olive skin and long straight dark brown hair. Not the classic dancer's body--especially now. I'm weeks overdue. Abdomen tight as a cantaloupe, back aching. Our choreographer is using my pregnancy--I'm one of three pregnant dancers, all of us huge, in maroon or plum colored leotards, dancing as well as we can.

We look like big beans.

Behind us is a line of willowy non-pregnant dancers led by the choreographer, who's not human. She's the Fertility Goddess, or so she says. Our dance is being shot for a video to promote fertility.

I like my fellow dancers, but the goddess is too bossy. I don't plan to obey her, let alone worship her.

Not that she's personally horrible--I hate being subordinate, that's all. She doesn't even care if I worship her, just hopes I'll look the part on the video, be a symbol of her fertility. But it's MY body with the backache! I'M the one doing the work! She wants to make me her symbol...

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