January 27, 2013
TV says more rain. You wash your clothes, buy crackers and tuna, mend your umbrella. In case of flood, you make sure that you can survive. You devise a boat with a roof, a paddle; you prepare a floater, a whistle, a flare. Floods this side of town are huge, you have seen one. TV says there is little chance for that kind of flood to happen twice. Only certainty is heavy rains. You decide that the umbrella is useless. You buy a second boat. You look out the window. Rain is here. It whispers "You are not safe."