Lines of Communication

The unexpected sprinkle quickly became a deluge, forcing Tom to peddle faster toward the large oak ahead.

“Really?! There’s no rain forecasted!”

Breathing heavily, Tom dropped the bike. He pulled himself against the trunk, holding his leather bag over his head.

“I’m gonna look like a drowned rat!”

The tree groaned in the wind… or was that a chuckle?

“You’re losing it, Thomas. Just practice your interview spiel.”

The tree groaned again. In disagreement.

Tom rolled his eyes at that insane thought and began.

“I’ve spent the past eleven years in appre–“

 The wind increased dramatically; he angled the bag to fend against it. Now, he had to shout.

“I’ve spent the last eleven years in apprenticeship to Grand Wizard Christopher of Han–“

Thunder cut through the winds and Tom’s words. Instinctively, he pressed closer to the tree.

“You’d think someone didn’t want me to make this interview…”

This time, the tree’s moan was definitely a complaint… wait, not a complaint. A sigh, perhaps?

Instead of continuing, Tom hollered.

“Are you apologizing, Chris?”

The storm ceased, and rays of sunshine shone on his downed bicycle.

Tom smiled. Shaking his head, he mounted the bike and headed back home.