I spotted her resting outside of the feed store.
Her tranquility blessing the 17 varieties of dog food.
“Will you pray with me?” she asked.
I sat beside her.
“Who are we praying for?”
“The petunias. They need Jesus.”
I nodded. Every petunia I had ever encountered needed some form of divine assistance.
“What mischief have they been making?”
“The worst kind - misquoting “Pulp Fiction”
“SHHEEET sister that’s all you had to say. Let us pray….”