Ficly

Wash

It was raining. Just not the way she wanted it to, she wanted to see the tree tops bend miraculously without breaking, she wanted a hurricane force storm to sting the window between her eyes and the view of his car. She knew eventually he was going to be stepping out of the back door to the country club kitchen with his hands in the pear shaped waitress’s back pocket. If she had come up with some brilliant plan ahead of time maybe there would not have to be these wishes for the storm to wash away the sins of her lover, there could have been well thought out scheme which would be the story she’d tell her friends for years.
“What could be more absurdly horrible then waiting out here to be made a fool of in the false hope of pointing out a fool!”
Her siberian huskey looks her in the eye when she talks and she is so on egde it seems he really understood every word that reached his one blue eye and one brown eye, the very nature of emotion stroked his hair and he has to shake it off like rain.

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