It was the 51st of May or some July movement. The heat long ceased to phase the residents, instead they grew impatient at the weatherman.
Some wanted a sure forecast, some prided themselves on perhaps and mayhaps. Still others thrived on doubt. They who despise certainty were often rewarded.
Why change when wrong is right?
But stranger yet, this leap decade brought the children out in droves. To play. To complain. Often both.
So it was on this day that Jan Rice lost her tooth. She planned to sacrifice it to the dental deity, but was waylaid by a far sinister plot.
The ice cream truck. Driven by Beezlebub himself, but disguised at a crater faced teen, he lured sweet Jan to his truck.
He stole her sacrifice. And then he planned to sacrifice her. But sweet Jan left unscathed for she invoked the battle hymn of the innocent to summon her minions.
Jan was unharmed but her shirt was riddled with battle scars: dirt, grass, melted dairy product.
And on that blessed day she offered up her own enamel as thanks. All glory be to her voicebox and biological guardians. They christened her brow with kisses.
And as for Beezlebub? He was whisked away a blur of blue lights.
The weather called for thunderstorms on the 51st of May. 50% chance.
But alas, the dental deity accepted her prize without a raincoat.