it began in a house with the ocean in the backyard. there’s always an ocean with you. we trade our conversation for the waves slapping up against the brick of the house. the crests carried people to the walls, until finally they were carried too roughly. after a few near misses of brick and brains, the waves carry us through the fence and into the front. we ride the twenty-foot wave until we feel the ground beneath us and make our way inland. the waves follow, a menacing wall of pressure pushing us farther and father forward. we try to find shelter in houses along the way, but the water finds us there and we must continually evacuate. soon buses arrive to transport people to higher ground.
we are taken to a hotel and given a room with a twin bed and a sofa and a bar full of food and alcohol. a messy night in the making. we explore the hotel and find a room with a bigger bed, despite its occupation. we leave and join a friend in his apartment on a higher story. we can hear the water roaring closer. we can hear the air singing. we think we’ll be safe here. we attempt to figure out what is happening, but no one has answers. we wait for the water.
i watch it climb the stairs. you pull me into the room and close the door. the water recedes but the next swell approaches. you hang onto me as we feel the house lifted by the water monster and is caught in the undertow. spinning. the house rolls over land as the current drags it forward, and we are tossed in the house with the furniture against the walls. i grip you but we just tumble like clothes in a dryer. eventually the tide rolls back out and the spinning comes to an abrupt halt.