Inundated

Posted on 12 January 2011

2


I smell burning candle wax and steaming asphalt. Over-abundant adrenaline seems to crystallise. Water from the air settles on my skin to mingle with rising sweat. Later, I will smell rotting mud, feel queasy fatigue, and boredom.

Things are still. Sounds are the occasional whisper of a passing car or rattle of a truck, buzzing helicopters, and the wail of an evacuation alarm across the river somewhere.

I have company in my cat and a dear friend who has come to stay, for which I am breathlessly grateful.

Imagine how melodramatic I’d get if I was stuck here alone.

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