Because the sky shifts about one degree every 50 years, the dog days of summer today are not the same as those of ancient Greece that were their namesake.

"Should you be out here by yourself?" The woman was looking out at the lake.

The girl considered lying, after all, she shouldn't really have been talking to a stranger in the first place. But then lying seemed like more work than telling the truth, and it was too hot for more work.

"No. I used to come with Marcus, but he's not around anymore."

"Mmmm," the old woman nodded, "he was your friend?"

The girl itched her bare leg with her foot, but the sand on the bottom of her shoe rubbed off on her leg and made it even itchier. She wished she could rinse the sand off in the lake, but then it would stink like dead fish and probably still be itchy from the al-gee. "Yeah, he was my friend."

"Must be hard to make friends all the way out here."

The girl wasn't sure if the woman meant out by the lake or outside of town, so she said nothing. Then she
looked the woman up and down again and a thought came to her.

"Are you a witch?"

The woman looked her in the eye with eyes so pale they seemed colorless. "Now why would you say that?"

The girl shrugged. "I dunno. You've gotta stick and know about al-gee."

"And what if I was a witch? Would you be afraid of me then?"

The girl stood up a little straighter. "Naw. But I'd ask you if you knew a way to make the rains come."

"Hmmm. I see." The woman gazed up into the blistering sky, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand. "And what if I did?"

Her heart beating faster, the girl almost stumbled toward the woman. "Then I'd ask you to show me how to do it."

"And what if I told you only a witch could do it?"

"Then...I'd ask you to do it."

"And what if I say no?"

The girl's lower lip jutted out. She thought about Papa and Jonas and not having any milk money. "Then I'd find a way to make you do it."

Keep Writing and Edit On.
I Write, I Edit, I Write Again. Witness!
We're Making Better Words, All of Them, Better Words.
I Write to Burn Off the Crazy.
A Good Day Writing is a Day Writing.
It Puts the Words on the Page or it Gets the Hose Again.
Just keep writing...just keep writing...writing, writing, writing!
Writing is Magic.
The First Rule of Write Club is You Talk About Write Club.
If You Aren't Writing, You Aren't a Writer.

A beekeeper is in the ER with an allergic reaction to a bee sting.

Nurse: Where are your hives?
Beekeeper: Down the road a few miles on my in-laws farm.
Nurse: [Gives beekeeper funny look then begins to laugh.] No I mean your hives.
Beekeeper: [Flushing with emberassment.] Oh, on my legs, chest, and neck.

Two woman are driving in a car.

Woman 1: Oh, did you hear? The construction on that overpass has been halted because they found underground mines at the construction site.
Woman 2: Mines! From what, who? The Michigan militia?
Woman 1: Um, no. Like old iron mines.
Woman 2: Oh...I thought you meant land mines...

Keep Writing and Edit On.
I Write, I Edit, I Write Again. Witness!
We're Making Better Words, All of Them, Better Words.
I Write to Burn Off the Crazy.
A Good Day Writing is a Day Writing.
It Puts the Words on the Page or it Gets the Hose Again.
Just keep writing...just keep writing...writing, writing, writing!
Writing is Magic.
The First Rule of Write Club is You Talk About Write Club.
If You Aren't Writing, You Aren't a Writer.