I felt the moist air buffeting my face knocking me backward into the gritty sand. I heard it next, the cacophonous roar barely recognizable over the usual ocean sounds. The The sound became steadily louder until we could finally see it. What had initially appeared as a darker part of the sky revealed itself as what it truly was. And the tsunami bore down on us.
I raced up the beach with the swelling crowd of terrified people their combined fear almost palpable. I raced down the the paved roads watching out as much for obstacles as the people around me. I knew that if I was to fall I would die long before the wave struck for I would be trampled under the feet of these people, rushing away from the inevitable.
I felt a warm wetness at the base of my heal. Terrified that I would look down and find swirling water already, I peeked at my foot while hopping along on the other being dragged by the crowd. To my relief I didn't see any water, I was happy until I realized the source of the wetness.
A jagged cut spewing crimson blood down my my leg.
How had I not noticed? There was a cut an inch deep in my leg, blood flowing freely into the water at my feet. Wait, water? Slowly I turned, the crowd parting around me, to stare at the huge wave crashing down on top of me.
YOU ARE READING
The Lonesome Rock and other Poems and Shorts
PoetryWhat does a lonely rock think as it sits all alone? What does the last dandelion do as it waits to be devoured? What happened in the house on the hill?
