Floating carcasses were all that was left of Cecil’s chickens and cows. His fishing boat tore from the jetty to be lost in the muddy torrent. Everything his family owned was gone.
He stood in waist-deep water, grabbing at his possessions as they drifted away. He saw one of his daughter’s toys and reached for it. It would amuse her in the days to come. Wind and debris slapping at his face, he sloshed towards the church, its spire rising strong amid the chaos. Paulette and Lucille—his wife and his child—waited there.
We, too, will rise again, Cecil vowed.