It started as a gulp in the throat when I first heard about the floods. I never imagined, not even in my nightmares, that the rivers where we dip our feet could swallow our city.
I looked outside of my bedroom window and there I saw my usual world. The only thing that appeared to be wrong was the way the wind howled and the sound of rain hitting our shingles. I could see our neighborhood and it's houses, there were no sharp shadows or floating trees. Every bit of rain became nothing but a tiny puddle.
I looked into my television and I saw bridges underneath water, places where I've walked turning into swimming pools and people being asked to abandon their homes for higher ground. I watched a friend's house be swept away by the merciless current and I felt helpless.
The river made the sky look like it had arms but we could not reach it.
I'm one of the lucky ones. My house sits on a hill and the river does not travel here. I am only 15 minutes away from trees that were uprooted and houses that were ruined, but I felt like I was much much farther than that. As if I lived in a different world, all because of one hill.
Days have passed since the floods came and our city is starting to put itself back together. No longer does a warehouse of "what ifs" and "no ends in sight" make us gloomy. It is hard to imagine losing things in a flood like your first teddy bear, your favorite kettle, a prom dress you wore or portraits of your family but these 'things' do not matter when compared to our breath.
We are so lucky to be alive.
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