Semi-Daily Scribbles

Bertha was happy for the gentle June rain that plonked against the dusty road out of Dodge. She'd had to act quickly. There was no time for a pre-flight meal, or to sufficiently hydrate her once voluptuous body that was now sharp angles and skin. Stress and unhappiness reduced Bertha to a nearsighted shadow on spindly legs. She wasn't even sure she had the strength to make it far on her quest to find vision; her chance to see the world for the very first time. She got off the road when the plonks were joined by splatters, and wandered into a fallow field, where a lone tree beckoned. Bertha ambled over ruts and clods and came to rest under nature's protection. She gave thanks to whoever made the rain, and the road, and the tree, all of which were better companions than those she left behind.