Maggie knew it was only a matter of time before she was caught. It was inevitable, as certain as the rising of the sun each morning over India's beautiful river.
She wasn't cut out for this sort of thing. She KNEW that. But when she saw it there, dark and rich and beautiful she knew she just had to have it, come what may. So now she sat in her seat, shivering, sweat beading on her forehead as the plane taxied for a landing. The bag shifted inside her blouse, it's contents conforming to the shape of her body as she fidgeted in her seat. She was having second thoughts, but what could she do? She briefly considered running for the plane's bathroom and flushing away the evidence, but it was too late. Besides, with her luck, it would clog up and she'd be caught for sure. No, better to simply concentrate on her breathing, calm down, and get through this. And stop looking so guilty! That was the surest way to get caught.
As the plane came to a stop, she grabbed her carry-on and walked slowly into the bustling airport. She approached the uniformed Customs official, who took one look at her and asked, "Do you have anything to declare?"
Maggie retrieved the warm bag from the confines of her shirt, gulped, sighed, and replied, "Errrr... tea?"