From the window I watch waves like the ones you’d see on an angry lake swell and overtake a stop sign. Squirrels scurry to a higher branch, but when their bark breaks, the passengers sink quickly below the muddy surface.
A knock on the door interrupts the rising moan. Through the peephole, a wet rucksack beside a familiar face.
“What you want?” I shout, and then add, “I got nothing.” My neighbor tells me he needs shelter, a place to stay, and I contemplate letting him in, but with the long darkness ahead, I’m too afraid to unlatch the door.
He leaves when the first muddy stream seeps into the hallway leaking into my apartment. I try to push it back with the broom. I won’t stand up against Katrina, so I pray to God that she may lie forever with an unopened eye.
d’Verse Poet’s Pub | Prosery Forever with unopened eye
144 words to include Edgar Allen Poe’s “I pray to go that she may life/forever with an unopened eye” taken from “The Sleeper.”
Cover Art: Eye of the storm by Maria Arango
Yard Sale of Thoughts 
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