Unbuttered bread

Hi mister can i come  in from the rain

It was a wet and windy morning...the beginning of the rainey season...and there she was....like a flower soaked

Without thinking i let her in my home.....then suddenly i felt a swift of cool air conditioning my senses like a mystic force in the air

I quickly brought her a towel a white shirt and a red sheet to cover herself 

I then warmed up some coffee from my morning brew and check on my freshly baked bread in the oven to see if it was done.

Soon after i went to see how she was doing.

There she was sitting on the floor...wearing my shirt on backwards...and the sheet covered as a skirt.....dried she was combing her hair.

She called me...and began telling me her story....of her coming here...it seems like hours....needless to say i was intrigue by her voice....her words....her beauty.....like i was is a trance. ...she spoke i listened and sometimes were in my own man thoughts....not until it started to smoke....

It was the bread. ..i ran to the kitchen but...today was toast. ...burnt bread

I offered the coffee ....we laughed.....and not before long the rain had stopped She kisses me on my forehead and with a thank you left saying she would be back tomorrow to return my clothes and to taste....my freshly cooked bread

She left and only then i realize. I did not get her name....

The sun came out....i thought what a fool i must have been.....