When rainy days are just another kind of good weather
It was mid-morning, and was still raining. It had been raining when Ali woke up, the soft staccato kind of rain that made Jazz the most natural sort of music in the world, the kind of rain that made her glad to lay in her bed in her room and be lazy until breakfast. And it was very much "hers", now; she was filled with the insidious sort of contented sense of belonging that made her never want to leave.
It had rained through breakfast, which led to a small, civil, and very polite debate with Ingrid about who would do what. Even a house so large and fine as the von Hammer castle needed only one mistress, and although Ali knew logically she had no right to the title she was simply too used to being in charge to share it easily. But for today she conceded the point to Ingrid with a smile and hoped Hans never noticed the disagreement.
It had continued to rain through her morning walk, drumming her head and back as if to urge her on to speeds dangerous in her current combination of clothing and weather, even if she were wearing sneakers; she preferred to not risk falling. The rain didn't even let up when she went inside and was reminded of a useful thing called an umbrella: no, the rain was settled in for the morning and could not be bothered until at least noon, if you please.
And so it rained on as an Ali in dry clothes and mostly dry hair settled into her favorite spot in the library, where today she could watch both the rain and the fire while she tatted.
It had rained through breakfast, which led to a small, civil, and very polite debate with Ingrid about who would do what. Even a house so large and fine as the von Hammer castle needed only one mistress, and although Ali knew logically she had no right to the title she was simply too used to being in charge to share it easily. But for today she conceded the point to Ingrid with a smile and hoped Hans never noticed the disagreement.
It had continued to rain through her morning walk, drumming her head and back as if to urge her on to speeds dangerous in her current combination of clothing and weather, even if she were wearing sneakers; she preferred to not risk falling. The rain didn't even let up when she went inside and was reminded of a useful thing called an umbrella: no, the rain was settled in for the morning and could not be bothered until at least noon, if you please.
And so it rained on as an Ali in dry clothes and mostly dry hair settled into her favorite spot in the library, where today she could watch both the rain and the fire while she tatted.