diffuse

Thunder crackled. Clouds dark, massive tumbled across the sky.

Annette slammed the door to her car and ran towards her front door.  She used her mail binder to try and cover her hair, but that only made the rain dribble fast down her arms and face.  In her sprint she felt her boot heel break and her ankle bruise slightly.  She let out a loud groan and dropped her arms, resigned; marched to her porch stoop.  To her left a neighbor stared at her from her rocking chair- Missus Tipton.  Annette figured she might as well greet her.  "Hello," nodded - went into her small porch and into her city dwelling.

The cat must have known she wasn't in a great mood.  Henry was perched on the couch, evergreen eyes watching her. Normally he was mewing at the door and weaved around her feet.

  Shoes off and wet coat strewn on the floor, Annette went and laid down on the white-blue checked kitchen floor.  Why not.

She stared at the white plastic ceiling fan going round, feeling her heart beat and her chest cavity rise and fall in respiration.  She felt the water drip down her forehead down to her ear; it tickled; then went on the fall to the checked floor.  Cold air moved around her wet feet.  Annette just lay there existing for a while, staring also at the light green color of the ceiling.

After some minutes Henry mewed and sat next to her right arm, tail wagging furiously.  Power button on, Annette rose and got out his cat food.  He always ate off of a little blue plate for wet food.  The moment she put it on the floor in the designated corner, he rushed over.  Really it was comical how quickly he could appear.  She appreciated it then, and sat at a kitchen chair to continue being a statue.

After he ate and she watched the digital clock on the oven strike 9:02, some thirty minutes since she had gotten home, she let out a deep sigh and felt at ease again.  The day had been a trying one, and she had needed time to let the stress diffuse.  She went and found her fuzzy pink slippers and got our her journal.  She got out the colored pens. What Annette ended up doing before bed was listening to a goofy infomercial about a suddenly necessary-to-all closet-organizing system and writing out names of people dear to her in pretty lettering.  At some point later on, maybe, she would write a note on the back of the pages and send them out.

She didn't know yet, and didn't care any more, because bed sounded wonderful.  Henry was already in his little bed when she got to the room.  Annette greeted Gus the goldfish, then buried herself beneath quilt.

She lay there for a moment; then rustled, sitting up.  She turned on the small bedside light and bent down to grab the journal and pens.  She had brought them to the room with her-- they belonged on the shelf near the closet, but she had dropped them there before attempting to sleep.

Annette doodled to God for a while.  She spoke out loud about the day and wrote down key words.  She said a prayer about the most challenging parts and apologized for where she had responded poorly to co-workers.  She then listened to God for a while.

After the conversation, she felt better about tomorrow.  She was reminded of how she could serve God at work-- by keeping God in each moment and conversation.  Not that she had to always talk ABOUT God, but she could remember He was with her.  He was with everyone for that matter; but she was beginning to think too much now.  If she just went through the day with God, it would make a big difference in her interactions with co-workers and, really, with her outlook on the day.....

Finally feeling peace, even though work was still a challenging place and she knew bills were coming up, she fell into a content sleep.  God was HER God.  She was HIS daughter.  That truth overtook any worries that floated around her sleepy brain.