Mrs. Madam and the Mouse

God cried that day. Tears streamed down a cloudy sky hailing out on whoever stood between them and the ground. Mrs. Madam was the most un-delighted of all.
“Rain!” She screech, grabbing the stares of a passerby. She gave him a nasty look scarring the poor man. He scurried out of her furious strutting pace down the sidewalk. She smiled maliciously. She loved the affect her temper paired with her ugly face made on people.
“I hate it!” she ranted. The mouse on her shoulder plugged his sensitive ears.
“Here we are.” sighed Mrs. Madam. She pounded up the stone steps to a sagging, rundown, grafeteed, doorway lacking a doorknob. In it’s center was a knocker in the shape of Mrs. Madam’s ugly face. Mrs. Madam smiled vainly at the likeness. The smile shrank to a pout as she discovered the archway held no shelter from the torrent.
“Don’t go in yet.” reminded the mouse.
“God, I know!” snapped Mrs. Madam. She hated being told what to do, but she hated with a burning passion being told what to do by a mouse.

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