When Sara goes outside she doesn't get wet. But it's pouring out and she has neither slicker nor umbrella. If you look really close, you'll see the droplets deflect not even an inch from her skin. I think she thinks the rain away and since thoughts have been declared things by the thinking community, they can come between what's wet and what's dry and stays dry. Personally I like to think as little as possible and stay indoors as much as possible. It's not Sara's life but it's a good one.
Charles Springer has degrees in anthropology and is an award-winning painter. A Pushcart Prize nominee, he has published in over sixty journals including The Cincinnati Review, Faultline, Windsor Review, Packingtown Review, Gertrudeand Passager. His collection of poems entitled Juice is forthcoming from Regal House Publishing. He writes from Pennsylvania.