At the Wooden House

My old, seminary friend, who was most recently the retired president of that very seminary, and I met at the wooden house

which was my house and located on the top of the hill below which was the very nice home of that old, seminary friend.  We sat inside

and the roof started to leak.  Rain gushed from all kinds of places in the roof and I thought we would be late for the gathering of the seminary

graduates in the chapel near the wooden house which was mine and just to the right of the home of that old, seminary friend.

He told me that I needn’t worry because the wooden floors were really hard and would withstand the water falling on it.  I felt relieved.

We talked for a while and then he said that he needed to go to the graduation. I got up with him and started to go and I think I made it to the

front door of the Grecian building and maybe looked inside and saw all the graduates in their black robes but stayed outside. His wife, who had been a friend of my late wife,

when her husband my old, seminary friend and I were in seminary, knocked on the door of the wooden house.  I was back inside. I saw her but didn’t answer the door.  I didn’t

want to talk to her.  She said a few things through the door and then she left.  I suppose she went to the graduation.  I wiped up the water on the floor.  I wondered why it had

poured through the roof so strongly when it hadn’t even rained that day.  It had rained the day before.  Had all the water just sat there waiting for a while only

to gush through when my old, seminary friend and I were sitting in my wooden house?