Shh, part 1

Robert Quick

Where the -@!# did my muse go?

Writer, dreamer, knight, shackled by entertainment . . . and people.

Threading through the streets, past storefronts that still had power, Lenn kept one hand on his wallet and used the other to hold his poncho's hood closed. The rain had been hammering the city for five unrelenting days and it wasn't scheduled to let up for another three. Lower districts were a meter under water and people had been evacuated to shelters for safety.

Up where he was the the water barely lapped over the curb and determined drivers pretending that nothing was wrong chugged along.

Lenn shook his head at them. Stupid. It wasn't safe to drive. If a levy broke or part of the street collapsed, they'd be swept away trapped in their car. Only idiots would be out in this at all. Well, idiots and people with sick girlfriends. He hunched his shoulders and felt the two heavy thermoses of hot chicken soup bang against each other in his backpack. He hoped they hadn't crushed the crackers.

Every light on the street surged with violent intensity and went out. In the dark, a city wide siren began to wail.


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Comments (1 so far!)

ElshaHawk LoA

ElshaHawk LoA

Well, they might not have made the wrong choice in staying, as it seems their houses are intact, but their supplies might be dwindling and this extra rain and no power might cause some difficulties.

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