Swept Away
August 26th 2009 21:00
Photo by Jamie Lantzy. Used in accordance with the terms of Wikimedia Commons’ GNU Free Documentation License, Version 1.2 or any later version published by the Free Software Foundation; with no Invariant Sections, no Front-Cover Texts, and no Back-Cover Texts.
Exhausted from yet another long day at the office, I came home to have dinner and then settle down to watch the Chaser. Once the show had finished, I was about to turn the TV off when the news came on. It was grim: a tsunami could be on its way. For once in my life, I cursed myself for living near the city. Why couldn’t I live inland, where it was safer? I envied my friends who lived in Blacktown.
After the tsunami alert came a story about sport. Time to turn the telly off. As I wandered into my bedroom, I looked around and wondered if a tsunami did hit, what was the likelihood of my unit being flooded given that I live on the third floor? My thoughts turned to Butterscotch and Gingersnap. At least I had the benefit of height; my boys lived in a one storey house in Darlinghurst. If the tsunami happened to hit their place, in all likelihood my boys would be swept away.
I could see them struggling against the tide before being washed away. There wouldn’t even be enough time for them to climb up a tree. RIP my boys.
Then came the next day. I awoke to see there was no sign of water anywhere near my building. I arrived at work only to find out we were no longer at risk of being hit by a tsunami. I mentioned my thoughts to a colleague only to be told he saw an animal rescue worker on TV who said, “The dogs were okay to rescue but the cats just went crazy.” The poor moggies.
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