Yoda dog blanketed in a forest

It was during one of those summer days when it’s hot before dawn, hot at the breaking of dawn, hot the entire day long, hot at dusk, and hot despite the coming of darkness—that the inquisitive one was working in the garden.

The sun was shining, and the inquisitive one was super hot.

The inquisitive one’s neck was dripping, and there was saltwater in its creases.

Wet spots were adhering clothing patches to, and trickles of sweat were running down, the inquisitive one’s skin.

The inquisitive one pulled many weeds and picked many tomatoes and peppers, slowly and wearily in all that hotness.

The inquisitive one’s forehead was completely wet. Wiping it, the inquisitive one decided that the garden work for the day was finished and walked toward the house.

The house, the inquisitive one remembered upon entering, was not air conditioned because the A/C had broken down overnight, and the technician could not come until the next day.

The inquisitive one, upon placing the basket of veggies on the counter, turned on the faucet; but only a spurt, and then a tiny thread of water, emerged.

“Oh no!” the inquisitive one cried, remembering that today was the day the water company was going to shut off the water, because of pipe work in the neighborhood. “Ahhh! All I want to do is wash my hands, and take a cold shower!”

The inquisitive one returned the faucet handle to the off position and banged back outside. “At least there might be a breeze out here,” muttered the inquisitive one. Soon after that, striding quickly toward a stump under the trees at the back of the garden, the inquisitive one tripped on a rock, tried to regain balance but failed, and slammed to the ground.

In pain, the inquisitive one rolled over and saw a big, skin-colored slashing of grass, dirt, and blood.

That’s when, suddenly and torrentially, it started to rain.

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