Garlic
My calico cat sits on the retaining wall, watching the sky full of roiling gray-blue clouds. I race against them, my fingers bumping into wriggling pink worms as I work. This contact fills me with electric joy. Hastily, I cover unearthed worms with soil, losing track of my planting pattern as I go. There’s no time to worry.
I’m nearing the end of the garden bed, dirt embedded under my fingernails. I feel a drop on my cheek, push a clove down. The water breaks, clouds bursting overhead. I scoop up the loose, unplanted cloves.
”Come on, Pumpkin, it’s raining!” I yell, dashing for the house. “Come on, run!” A black kitten is waiting for us at the screen door, prancing excitedly at our approach. “Move! Let us in!” I push her aside with my hand, holding the door open for Pumpkin. The excited kitten’s tail puffs out, achieving unprecedented volume. She dances around us with her bottlebrush tail as we shake the water from our fur and clothes. The rain slams violently against the earth beyond the screen.
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