It was a rainy day and she was tired of watching the rain splash on her window. She went rummaging through her closet and dug out her galoshes. She always loved that word, "galoshes." In England they called them rubbers. In America they just called them boots. But she liked to call them galoshes.

She pulled the boots on and clomped around the house. She wished she had one of those plastic yellow rain hats. But she didn't. She stopped at the hall closet for her mother's rain coat then went out the door, still tramping as loud as she could.

Outside, she splashed in the puddles. In the yard the mud was everywhere. The ditch was full of water. She looked up at the clouds but she had to squint her eyes at the rain. Even though she knew or was pretty sure that no rain would fall right into her eyes. She still squinted and opened her mouth instead. She didn't catch any rain but the water dripped down her neck and was cold between her back and the rain coat, making her clothes all wet too.

She grinned and pulled off her boots, just barely avoiding falling down. She waded barefoot into the ditch. The cool water flowing past her, the mud at the bottom squeltching between her toes. She decided she loved the sound of rain. The neighborhood was so quiet and she was the only person in the whole world and it was good. She never wanted to move from this spot.

The rain was but a sprinkle now and the clouds were starting to break up, she saw. Not too much longer, the sun would come out, things would heat up and the humidity would be uncomfortable. She was sad. Her glorious moment had passed.

©2000 by Cheri -rift- Meier of

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