3
I lay on my bed and stared up at the ceiling. My mother had wisely decided to leave me alone to brood, probably not wanting to provoke another thunderstorm. She’d met the firemen at the door, all apologies, telling them that the rain had put out the fire and that she was sorry to have bothered them. Of course, they’d told her it was no problem at all, and left after exchanging a few comments about what an odd storm it had been and how they’d never seen anything like it before.
Unfortunately, I’d seen plenty like it.
Neither my mother nor I was due at work until three, so I still had about an hour before I had to get over my funk and pretend to be the happy, cheery waitress the customers at the diner expected. For some reason, minor annoyances at work never seemed to be enough to invok
