The heat is always followed by a storm, she mused. In the far distance one could see the dark blue clouds hovering over the trees, approaching the hill slowly. The frowst was almost touchable and heavy with anticipation.
It is going to be so much better after the storm has passed, she reckoned. There was nothing else to do in the garden anyway - she already picked the strawberries, deep red and juicy under the leaves, some half eaten by the snails - the garden was clean, the grass cut, and it was not the apple season yet. The cottage overlooked a slope that ended in a small, airy forest she loved taking walks in. Where she used to love taking walks in, she corrected herself, remembering the old times. Behind the house green meadows with tall grass streched until the horizon. She could easily see anyone coming - not that she had many visitors, at least not often, and most certainly not the one she really expected. The heat, she figured, is not everyone's cup of tea.
When stepping into the cool hallway, she could hear the first raindrops on the roof. The wind has awakened and rattled the shutters. I could do with a cup of coffee, she thought. Kicking off her gum boots - the stone floor felt chilly against her soles - she headed into the tiny kitchen.
The premises were small, just enough for two, so back then she had picked white furniture and simply whitewashed the exposed brick walls, as this way she could expand the sense of space. She also acquired some wicker baskets - they came very handy when she needed storage, yet wanted the kitchen to look organized. Some accessories in bright red and faded blue created tension - she loved it, but he never understood it. You do need some contrast on your life - she reasoned.
The woman sunk into the comfortable wicker chair - the thick cushion made it softer, embracing her like a cocoon. Nibbling on the the berry cookies made in the morning, she sipped her coffee. The thunder could hardly be heard anymore, it was quiet outside. The light slowly found its way through the layers of clouds.
Yes, she thought. After the storm the sun always shines brighter.