The fluorescent lights of the supermarket seemed to amplify the flush I could feel rising in my cheeks.
Over the past few months, my digestion had become unpredictable, an orchestra of grumbles and hisses that performed at the most inopportune moments. And of course, today, with the store crowded with people doing their Saturday morning shopping, my intestines had decided to give it their all.
I tried to ignore the growing discomfort, focusing on the labels on the frozen foods. Gluten-free, organic, high in fiber ... the words danced before my eyes as a wave of heat rose up my spine. I knew what was coming.
I clenched my butt, trying to suppress the inevitable, but it was no use. A low, drawn-out sound, like an out-of-tune trombone, broke the silence of the frozen foods aisle. I tensed, my heart pounding.
I stole a glance around.
The wave of shame washed over me. Why was this happening to me? Why did my body have to betray me like this, in the midst of all these peo
