The Storm and the Floods

  

Jervis was tired.  Bone dead tired. 

True, the storm had been predicted well in advance and the resultant flooding was not unexpected, but the sheer magnitude of it was horrifying. The swirling tides were simply everywhere.

Long ago he'd had to abandon his four wheel drive utility vehicle and begun going house to house to see who might need rescue. Trudging through waist deep muck and mire, he'd knock on each individual door and call out "Is anybody here? Anyone need help?"

In one house, he found two older people huddled on the second floor, both terrified by the rising tides that had almost engulfed them.   In another, an angry young woman said the deluge had her so upset she was disillusioned about everything she'd ever believed in.

Truth to tell, Jervis felt that way too.

Thankfully by next week it would all be over. The election would have taken place, the national storm subsided, and the flood of bullshit finally receded across the land.  

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