He grabbed a handful of the corn grains harvested. The purity, smell and softness to the touch caused him a small feeling of pride. They were products of a good harvest, and of what would be a concern less in the future. They will have enough food to not have to worry about once the baby is born, he could look after his wife during the postpartum period and see to the adaptation of the baby once it comes into this world. The gentle noise of farm animals was a melody to which Lucius was accustomed, and that somehow gave him the peace and tranquility they had been looking for.

He came out of the shed, taking a little peek. The laundry was drying on the twine, the chicks had been fed and there was no trace of his pregnant wife trying to carry a basket of vegetables. He sighed softly, mumbling something between his teeth that sounded like a plea to the gods not to find her among rough animals as were the cows.

They had been married for two years and she was already pregnant. He set aside the sheets that functioned as doors and headed to the kitchen. He lifted a weight from his shoulders when he saw his wife there and was able to breathe more calmly.

"I’ve bagged the last parcel of grain. Lots of sacks, we’ll make good profit. I estimate that it will last us more or less for the birth of the baby and a few weeks. Maybe a full month, with a little luck." He paused. He had seen a milk jug on the old wooden countertop. "I thought we had talked about what I think about you going to the barn alone. Almost eight months pregnant."