Happy New Year

Inflation Types:
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The hand on the large clock turned to 11:50.

She stood alone on the veranda, idly sipping her champagne.  Platinum blonde, slender build, she was wearing a stunning white dress that sparkled and shone under the moonlit stars.

She walked slowly to the railing, surveying the darkened valley below.  The sounds of the party behind her were muted, even with the wide open doors, as she sipped from her glass.  The champagne bubbles sent a chill down her arms and legs, causing her to shiver as she turned back toward the reveling crowd.

The hand on the clock crept to 11:55.

She took a step toward the lighted portal, stifling a small burp.  All this champagne, she mused, was catching up with her.  She placed the near empty glass on the rail, raising her hand to discretely obscure her mouth as she felt the bubbles tickle her nose.

The clock turned to 11:57.

She paused after only a few steps.  She felt the need to burp again but try as she may, the gas seemed to lodge in her throat.  She patted her chest in hopes of eliciting a response, but to no avail as she felt the pressure increase slowly.

The clock turned to 11:58.

She felt the pressure grow, moving into her stomach, leaving her feeling bloated and uncomfortably full.  Too much champagne, she thought again.  She began to rub her stomach and gasped as she felt the mild bulge welling.  Her eyes shot down, looking at a belly gently curving, building in fullness and girth even as she watched.  With both hands she grasped the sides of her midsection, pushing hard as she tried to stem the growth.  Her abdomen felt hard and tight, swelling inexorably.  Cradling her belly, she felt it press back against her arms as she grew, looking full, then pregnant as she began rounding out in front.

The clock turned to 11:59.

She stifled a whimper, barely audible in the din of the party.  A few partygoers glanced out in her direction as she felt her waist begin to thicken.  She swelled larger in the midsection, growing wider with no signs of slowing.  She took a tentative step forward, feeling the fabric of her immaculate white dress wrapped tightly around her, restricting her movement.  Her hips and thighs, plumped and growing, made even this minute movement awkward.  Her mind, fuzzy from all the champagne, raced as she desperately tried to think of something.  Equally as fast, her hands rubbed up and down her increasing girth, feeling her body grow larger and larger with each passing moment.

The second hand swung slowly passed thirty seconds.

Her waist grew wider around than a hula-hoop, making it difficult for her to maintain her balance.  More revelers glanced out in her direction as she gained more attention, some moving to the balcony to see what the commotion was about.  Her arms and legs began to fill, forcing her to stand like a giant “X” as she widened her stance, her arms lifting of their own accord.  Her jaw was pressed shut by her swelling chest, which rounded out from just under her throat all the way down to her thighs.  Thus quieted, her eyes darted back and forth over people, silently pleading for help.

The second hand swung past forty-five seconds.

Her arms and legs were almost completely engulfed by the growing globe of her body.  She flapped her hands in desperation as she took a few waddling steps; it was not unlike watching a penguin walk.  By now, most of the partygoers were on the balcony, watching her muted cries for help as she grew almost completely round, her sparkling white dress a glowing sphere in the moonlight.

The second hand passed fifty seconds.

Somewhere in the background, an over-loud television set called off “Ten!” from Times Square as she felt her feet lift gently off the ground.


She rolled gently backwards, looking first at the moon and the stars, then a moment later back at the partygoers’ faces fifteen feet below.


She passed higher, still growing.  A blimp in a dazzling white dress, she continued to inflate as she slowly gained altitude.


She felt the pressure increasing.  As she rolled, she saw the crowd below, the balcony washed in the light of the open doors.


Panicked, unable to stop, she flapped her hands and wriggled her feet as terra firma receded into the night.  Below, the crowd watched as the glowing white sphere lifted higher and higher, still swelling appreciably to the naked eye.


She felt herself quickly running out of room.  Her skin felt taut and stretched, as it became translucent in the moonlight.


She grew impossibly huge, still visible to the naked eye.  Mouth clamped shut, tears streaming down her face, she heard her body groan in protest against the mounting strain.


Over the whispering of the wind she heard the hollow hissing emanating from within her body.  It distantly reminded her of a balloon that had been filled to capacity and about to burst.


People on the ground strained their necks skyward as the woman-turned-balloon ascended into the night sky.  As she turned over and over, she lost sight of the countryside in the darkness, her attention drawn elsewhere as she felt the pressure continue to build, but her body unable to swell any bigger to accommodate it.


Everyone on the veranda peered expectantly into the night sky, anticipating.  She clamped her eyes shut and, against the pressure of her rounded body forced her mouth open enough to squeak out an “Oh my-”

“Happy New Year!”

The gathering crowd watched the flash of light in the night sky, exploding like starburst fireworks.  Sparkling glitter rained down softly, catching the light of the moon as the revelers lifted their glasses and echoed the jubilation on the television.

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