Lunch

Ohh its raining outside, smoke is floating out of the coal pot in the makeshift shed to the right of the corn patch. Its a shed made of galvanize with four wooden poles to hold it up. The wind sweeps the rain around the shed turning the gray mud dark. The Campesh wood coal sparked and popped and he sound of the water boiling sounded like a back band to the steady drum like beats of the rain on the ground. Then as the water bubbled, the scent of the spices filled the yard causing he dog to howl with hunger. Oh I loved tropical rainy days, sitting at the back door, watching the green bushes glitter in the silver grey light. Smelling the provisions cooking, almost tasting the stew chicken in the air.