Last week’s post was prevented due to deluge. Two reservoirs above El Studiante were released causing extensive flooding of the Amacuzac river basin including sadly, Gaby’s ecestica and internet café. More tragic; a family of twelve and their home are missing. The death count is over 100 at present.
An Eyewitness Account:*
“There were bodies already bloated, cows and refrigerators, gas tanks and a roof you could tell the whole house was beneath, speeding down the river like contestants in a race. A store owner ran into her flooding business and emerged with a plastic bag full of cash– stacks of it, as she tried to escape the current caught her, the bag fell and the money spread like leaves across the water. The woman collapsed and had to be pulled from tide. All of us watching, gaped, amazed as so much money drifted away.”
I spent two days watching the rain, as news copters’ battered the firmament, grateful I wasn’t looking out at Chicago’s freezing drizzle, free to read without dread I would soon need enter the storm for reasons of commerce. Even the ever-industrious Felipe was forced to halt, and spent much of the second sloshing afternoon napping.
Our world is thick with water, what was dust is mud, what was a tickle a stream, and our stream a torrent. There is no surface that isn’t moist, verging on moldy. The first full day of sun will be spent turning out the lining of our home. Shafts of sunlight that pierce the cumulus constructions above are a drug I consume until I can no longer stomach the corpulent atmosphere, and retreat to the damp confines for more reading underscored by the vascular terrain.
From higher ground inundation elates
Westward, I am the cascada’s fury
soul plummet, tumble
To the east, creak bound
borne by elemental timbre
deeper than wisdom
baptism of vision
Bless the alchemists
wrestling metal heavy as greed
chinking divination’s hardened veins
while the mysteries lap the shore
of their dreams
*my source prefers to remain anonymous
© 2013 Abby Smith, Writer