May-Belle had no idea how she was going to get through the day.
The town, her home for many years, stretched away from her, while farmland stretched past her home on the edge of town, off into the horizon.
Intrigued by gathering clouds that blocked the sun, she shivered and put aside any thoughts of walking through her garden, glancing up at brave rain birds, thunder too distant too frighten them.
Vegetables ~ peas, beans, potatoes ~ May-Belle hoped there was no hail in the wicked looking cloud that hovered overhead.
A spit of rain hit the old wooden sidewalk, then fat drops landed in puffs on the dusty driveway.
Terrence, her chubby old cat, was ambling towards the house breaking into slow trot as the rain started coming down.
Instantly, May-Belle knew that if she didn’t go and get Terrence, she would have one muddy, wet cat clawing the already clawed screen door.
“Oh no you don’t come in here and destroy all of yesterday's house work just because you’re a fussy old thing!”
Neglecting her earlier lethargy, May-Belle raced into the yard, picked Terrence up and jumped up on the open porch just as sheets of rain drenched the thirsty earth.
“It’s not the situation...it’s your reaction to the situation.
~ Robert Conklin
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