Escaping the Rising Surge
An elderly man yanked open his heavy wooden front door and pointed toward the surging gray river overflowing its banks.
Torrential rain pounded against the steep metal roof while muddy water slammed violently against the stone foundation below.
He gripped the wet frame of the doorway with both hands, shouting over the roar of the current as white foam splashed across the porch planks.
Inside the dimly lit cabin, an elderly woman gathered her heavy wool shawl around her shoulders, staring down at the floorboards.
Dark water began seeping through the baseboards, spreading rapidly across the woven floor rug in wide, murky pools.
She hurried toward the window, pressing her palms against the wooden frame as a heavy wave of brown water crashed straight into the glass panes.
A Struggle Against the Current
The force of the flood burst through the lower seals, sending a heavy surge of water tumbling across the wooden floorboards.
Wooden dining chairs tipped backward into the stream, floating sideways alongside the dark wooden table.
A decorative ceramic bowl slid off the table’s edge, splashing into the rising flood inside the room.
The couple waded through the water, which quickly rose past their knees and splashed against their heavy clothing.
The man reached out, grasping the woman’s forearm tightly to help her keep her balance against the pulling current.
He pointed toward a steep wooden ladder leaning against the wall, leading upward to a square hatch in the ceiling.
Clinging to the Rooftop
The elderly man gripped the damp wooden rungs of the ladder, steadying it while guiding the woman up the steps.
She climbed carefully, placing one hand over the other until her head passed through the roof opening into the open air.
He pushed the roof hatch wide open, scrambling out onto the wet shingles as heavy rain beat down around them.
Reaching back down into the square opening, he cupped his hands under her arms to lift her onto the slanted roof slope.
They knelt together on the dark shingles, wrapping their arms around each other’s shoulders under the heavy gray sky.
The river swept completely over the surrounding terrain, submerging the trees, rocks, and lower story of the home entirely.
She pressed her face tightly against his sweater while he held her close, watching the endless dark water rush around the peak of the roof.
An Endless Cycle on the Hillside
The wooden structure shifted in the deep water, leaving only the dark roof tiles visible above the wide, rolling flood.
Shortly after, the fog cleared over a muddy hillside path winding through open green fields.
The elderly man and woman walked slowly side by side along the rutted dirt track, holding onto each other’s arms for support.
Their boots left deep prints in the wet mud as they approached the small timber cabin perched near the cliff edge.
They climbed the wooden porch steps together, stepping inside as the rain continued to fall from the overcast sky.
The elderly man pushed the wooden door back open, shouting out into the storm once again as rain poured off the eaves.
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