Spring was the worst.
She was supposed to love it.
The new life, the flowers, the colours.
Who wants to be out in the rain? What an awful prospect. Maybe the sprites for the other seasons frolicked... but not her. They could flit and float and gracefully usher their seasons in and out, whereas she was a soggy, stinky mess for a quarter of the year, every year.
She'd get the job done, her fur dripping and leaving puddles everywhere. Spring would come and go just like every other year, the thunderstorms following her everyday until the season ended and summer took over.
Summer, when it was dry.
That sounded so much better.
The seasons: Summer, Autumn, Winter
song lyrics: springtime is the season // of montreal