The water was boiling.
While in the barn raking hay, she heard a few tentative drops of rain ping against the tin roof, startling the cats and causing her to gasp and shake her vision loose for a moment. Maybe this is temporary. Maybe if I handle this wisely and with enough love they will feel the solidarity they need, the peace they deserve, and everything will right itself soon.
She finished making the rounds outside, taking note of the quietness and mournfulness of the early autumn weather. How was it possible that every animal seemed to know what was happening? They all looked at her cautiously, as though a breeze might shatter everything.
By the time she reached the edge of the pond, the rain had advanced from a gentle sprinkle to a heavy, slanted downpour. The midday sky was dark now and the air had turned cold. Thunder boomed and echoed in the valley. The horses had retreated to their loafing shed, perhaps to escape the rain, perhaps to grieve. The rain slashed into the surface of the pond with increasing ferocity, finally drawing out of her the wild, primal tears she needed to cry. She screamed and sobbed and the surface of the pond jumped and kicked against the news.

I ache with you. What a powerfully written piece!!
Excruciatingly powerful. I was in that storm with her.
Brilliant!
Wonderfully written, and with such feeling!
Exhaling. Thank you for directing me here. The crumpling to the floor, the disbelief, the release of the primal cry. All of it.
I’m so sorry you understand it. ♥