PHOTO PROMPT © CEAyr
I could have driven my old Dodge, tried to outrun the storm, taken my chances. Shelters didn’t take dogs and I wasn’t leaving them. The officials scared those of us staying behind, telling us to use Sharpies to write our social security numbers on our arms.
The wind’s been howling; the water rising. It’s crashing under the house into the canal.
Between gusts, I hear a motor. My crazy brother-in-law, Jake, boating around like it’s Sunday fishing.
My cell chimes.
“Grab those mutts and get your ass down here.”
I’m grateful. He won’t hear it. He’s saved our lives again.
end 10/9/2016 (3)
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WOW powerful!
Thanks!
Dear Sascha,
It sounds like Jake’s not so crazy after all. Good one.
Shalom,
Rochelle
Sharpies they add a powerful image to this piece.
Thanks. The Sharpie bit is actually true and when someone related that tidbit to me, it just stuck in my mind.
Nice how it’s always the crazy ones when you need them. So much story in so few words. Very well done.
Thank you! Personally I’m very fond of the “crazy” as well! 🙂
Same here – and sometimes I am the “crazy” one too. ;- )