Enjoy this delicately woven, poetic short story by award winning author, Blythe Ayne. Excerpt from Bread Day: "Is it going to tornado?" "Well," Minute's mother looked out the big kitchen window. The light from the black, evil sky reflected a strange yellow on her face. "I don't know. Nothing to worry about – we've got our basement." "Yeah." Minute had hoped she'd say, "No, there won't be a tornado," even if it wasn't true. Minute wandered to the front door. The heat broke briefly, letting through a moving breeze of cool air. Suddenly patters and splashes of rain plopped down on the dense purple and lavender iris and the cement doorstep. "It's raining!" Minute shouted with glee. She leapt through the doorway and pranced in the grass. "Rain, rain, rain," she chanted, flinging her arms out, then holding them close, as if she could hug the rain right to her. "Come in the house," Mother called. "You'll catch a cold." Minute ran inside. "Isn't it perfect?" She loved-loved-loved rain. The clouds poured out their evil ogreish yellow. The bread cast a fragrance from the oven and the warmth in the kitchen was just right....