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.