Here Comes the Rain Again

She glared back at me. “I told you it was an accident! It’s all because you kissed me and then stared right into my eyes. I wasn’t prepared for that! I told you I was deep, and you said you’d take that chance.”

I winced. She was right. “Jackie, I—”

But she wasn’t listening. Her hands clenched into fists. “I’ve half a mind to just—just keep you here. It’d serve you right.” She spun on her heel, her hair swirling angrily around her—and vanished.

“Jackie?” I went over to where she’d stood. “Jackie?”

I heard thunder rolling in the distance. The dog whined. It looked like a storm was coming up. “Jackie, I’m sorry!”

Then the rain began, striking the carpet of dried leaves with a pattering sound. I ran for the cabin door and was grateful to find it unlocked. So was the dog, who came in with me.

I spent the next hour staring out the window, rubbing the dog between the ears and watching the rain splash into the lake. “Guess I made her pretty mad, huh?”

“Arf!” the dog agreed.

“I was afraid of that.”

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