She
stood on our stoop with rain tapping down on the yellow poncho draped over her
head and shoulders.
“Hello,”
she managed.
“What
are you doing in the rain?”
“I,
um, I was hoping to retrieve my toothbrush.”
“Your
toothbrush?”
“Yes,
it’s quite special to me.”
The
screen door welcomed her with a squeak.
“It’s
where you left it.”
She
disappeared and returned with her toothbrush.
“It’s
a tad dusty,” she joked brushing silence from the room.
“It’s
been nine months.”
“Yes,
I suppose it has.”
“Would
you like to stay for a cup of coffee?”
She
did.
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