The river washed out the road, turning the point into an island, and isolating the inhabitants of the five homes built there. Then it really started raining. The neighbours built a ridge of sandbags twenty feet inland along the western edge of their island. Sheer stone walls protected the other three sides.

As the water rose, they emptied their homes of food and supplies and gathered in the easternmost building, a widower’s farmhouse, sitting higher on the point’s tip.

They stood around kitchen and dining room, completely soaked through, trying to catch their breath and wondering what would happen next.

Prompt courtesy of the Daily Post.


2 thoughts on “Adrift

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