“What could be better than this?”
“Not a thing.” Donna smiled at her husband.
“It’s like being on vacation…”
“Every day,” she finished.
They clinked glasses, toasting their new beachfront home, watching frothy waves roll up on their private beach.
They don’t talk about that night on their deck overlooking the ocean—the shattered champagne bottle, the shattered dream.
But they are reminded.
Every time they reach out for help, they are reminded.
Sipping scotch in the motel, they listen to Donna’s mother on speakerphone. “A category 4 hurricane. Tsk, tsk. I told you not to buy beachfront property.”
Flash Fiction Challenge over at Carrot Ranch
August 26 Prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about the need for help in an extreme weather event. Does it arrive or does the plea go ignored?
Lemon Shark Reef 