The New Minister is Weird
Bet she knows she is odd the church crone says.
I am confused “Who?”
The new minister.
I look around, still have no clue where or who she is.
“Lady in blue polka dotted shirt,” the crone hisses.
I finally spot her, sitting behind a potted plant.
“She is the new minister?”
Head nod, the crone’s eyes are more snake-like than I remembered
“She is weird. Look at those shoes!”
The newcomer would have fit in well in any city of the world.
A bit too sophisticated for this town of two thousand and sixty-one in Nebraska.
I walk toward her, determined to give her a warm welcome.
“I think I wore the wrong shoes,” she said.
I smile, liking her immediately.
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