Swimming in the Flood

Passion Pit – Swimming in the Flood

Far away clanging meant I was alone for the moment; I took the chance to stretch and yawn. “You know it being talked about already doesn’t make it any less significant.” Her words from the other room were followed by pounds up the stairs, “Now that Tropical Storm Passion is a hurricane, everything is different.”

I’d been trying to hide from her under a couch cushion,  but moved the fabric from my face to say, “What we call the weather doesn’t change what it’s gonna do.”

“You’re really not gonna help?” She materialized in front of me, I jumped; the T.V. switched to a gray screen and blared out a klaxon siren. “Look, now there’s even a flood warning.”

The pillow fell to the ground. “You’re telling me that the water coming from the sky is collecting here, on the ground, where it falls?!

She wasn’t amused, but I shot stone-face right back – she broke the stalemate to unplug the TV from the surge protector. “Can you get the rest, don’t want anything to get ruined by the storm.

In case the power does go out I’m getting the candles ready. Cinnamon, cotton-candy, or gingerbread?” She knew I wasn’t gonna answer that.

I sat up and my ears, no longer muted by fabric, picked up the waterfall outside.

She was always preparing, worried about what was to come; she’d never liked that my lifestyle revolved around reactions but stuck with me regardless. When I laid down, when she figured I was doing nothing, most of the time I paralyzed by the paradox of love.

Stagnation is death before the heart stops beating, neither one of us deserved that.

The smell of store-bought gingerbread filled our house; only a few things remained running until I went to the power strip and plugged everything back in.

“You coming up soon? I’m hopping in the bath.”

I was at the bottom of the steps, my back turned, eyes on the water washing under the front door in waves – the doorknob, cold to the touch,  turned – unclicked from frame – from the darkness a gust of wind pelted me with rain.

A river ran down the street – I sprinted into the flow and was swept away.


Continue reading My Mixtape – Skit 2

One thought on “Swimming in the Flood

  1. Pingback: Steal My Sunshine

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