Thanks to Kim for her post yesterday!
I promised more flood stories. This one isn’t sad, it’s funny. Now that it’s over, that is… My husband and I lived in a ratty basement apartment when we were first married. We were both college students and didn’t have much money, so we took the only place we could afford. We soon found out why the rent was so cheap. Every time it rained, water flowed from the hill above us straight through the ground-level windows in the back part of the basement and cascaded under the door into our living room. If the storm was bad enough, water filled the whole apartment—sometimes almost knee deep.
The first time it happened, we’d been sleeping. I stepped out of bed in the morning…Eeekk!...right into ankle-deep water. After that, whenever it rained, we piled all our belongings, chairs, and the few pieces of furniture we owned onto the dining room table. The table was a huge old oak door on sturdy legs. Every time the radio announced a storm, we’d race home and go into emergency mode.
Sometimes even if it didn’t rain, we still got water. Like when someone watered their lawn farther up the hill. So we learned to feel the carpet beside the back door. If it was damp, we schlepped our belongings to the dining room table.
One day we heard a huge rainstorm was on the way. We rushed back to our apartment as raindrops splattered down. My husband yanked open the apartment door and raced to feel the carpet by the back door.
“It’s OK,” he said, jumping up.
He lay dazed on the carpet as water flowed all over him and the floor. He’d hit his head on the fishbowl and created another flood.
Laurie J. Edwards
Author of "Summer Storms" in Summer Loving
Thank you for all the support you've given the Climbing Rose Young Adult line of The Wild Rose Press. Our stories are still available on The Wild Rose Press website, however, since we aren't publishing new stories, our blog is no longer active. We thank you again for the time you spent with us and invite you to visit our Climbing Rose bookstore.