We slept for a couple of hours in the car. Or they slept for a couple of hours. I slept for half of one. Alex says it's not hard to sleep for him, even under the circumstances. I don't say anything. Alex has always been a little bit strange to me. In the nicest way possible, Alex. There are a couple of other cars parked near us, so during the night, we took shifts guarding the car because we still have a fair amount of non-perishable foods, which I heard on the radio is now being rationed to the few survivors of this hurricane. At this point, I expect it to rain and have high winds. Perfect days are described as days without hail bigger than the yellow part of a dandelion. We turn on the radio. More lists of identified corpses. Huh. Mrs. Wilson turns the channel.
"I don't know about you kids, but I'm tired of people talking about dead people," she says.
"So am I," Jessie yawns.
"Hey, Mom, turn it up a little. Something good is one for once!" Alex says excitedly.
Mrs. Wilson, the current driver, turns it up.
Sure enough, all of us are soon singing to the YMCA. I don't even like the song that much, but hey, I'm glad to actually be happy for once. It's been a little less than a week since we evacuated. In that little less than a week, this is the first time I can truly say that I'm happy.
YOU ARE READING
Wet
General FictionIt was just your normal, another-day-at-the-office kind of day for Jake. Until his small, suburban area of Naples, Florida was battered with heavy rains and hail, flash floods, and hurricanes, that is. Jake only wants two things, though: to save his...
