I wondered if the lettering on my keyboard had been imprinted on my forehead yet. How long had I been there? An hour? Three hours? Seventeen years? Felt like it.
Thalia placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, the rainy season’s almost over,” she assured.
“It sure don’t feel like it,” I growled. “Besides, aren’t you the one who should be doing the idea-hatching, not me?”
“But corn doesn’t sow itself, now does it?” she asked, a lilt in her voice.
“What’s corn have to do with anything?”
“Think about it: the farmer does the hard work of planting and caring for the seeds. Then, after all the hard work, he or she has a rich harvest.”
“Yeah, okay, yippie, but what does that have to do with anything?!” I was growing frusterated.
“Think about it. You do the hard work, you reap the rewards. That’s how life works. I’m just here as a helpful nudge.” Thalia gave me a gentle nudge.
My eyes widened in realization. The dam in my brain broke loose, and I let it all flow through my fingers.