The young boy awoke, and sat up in his small bed of straw. Was it really going to happen today like that old man said? He stood up and hobbled to the doorway of his family's clay house, and looked up. He's probably right, thought the boy. The sky had been dark for almost a week now. It started off timid, just a white coat over the earth. But it was slowly growing darker; and today, it was almost pitch black. He could barely tell it was mid morning. The winds were turbulent. Dust flew all about him. He went to his small garden to see how they were, and felt their leaves. They're wet, he thought. He knew that the only way water could get to water was the cove. He quickly got up and meandered to the other side of the house, as not to wake his parents.
He ran to a cliff nearby the cove. When he got there, the winds were getting worse. He stared blankly at the ocean. Massive waves were crashing on the shore. He looked out again at the sea. For some reason, he couldn't see as far. Is that water falling from the sky? he thought. He noticed again that one gigantic wave was rapidly approaching. He then noticed, in the distance that it was consuming small islands, one at a time. He paniced and ran back to the village. He ran back to his house and tried to wake his parents, but they were too wasted from the party they had last night to get up. He panicked again and ran out side and yelled for someone to come, but the sound of the wave was too loud. A couple of elderly folk came out from the noise, and...
Woah
I like this, it is very interesting, slightly creepy, slightly fantastical. The use of the word "wasted" adds a touch of western culture to seemingly isolate island life. Nice peice!
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