Thank you for reading and sharing my daily #Storygram short stories! Be sure to subscribe to the newsletter and check out my film Portfolio!
The Story:
At first they were just showers—normal storms. They were wonderful for playing in the rain or taking a peaceful afternoon nap. But then, they didn’t stop.
Our rivers were redefining their own boundaries. New lakes were forming on top of subdivisions. Hundreds of thousands of people were being forced to abandon their homes. Entire communities were forming on linked together boats. Dry land was disappearing fast.
My sailing experience made me valuable to the leadership of our boatyard, so it was required that I attend the meetings. I walked in punctually late, as usual.
“You’re full of crawfish, Justin! Go back to that freak-ship of yours.”
Councilman Taldin was yelling as usual. I met him in passing on one of our rare dry days, while crossing over the yacht Ivy. He asked my name, and I told him not to yell at a lady. He’s hated me ever since.
Justin Merit was the resident meteorologist. Few thought he was a genius, but everyone knew he was a little off. Although, it wasn’t like him to be so worked up.
“Taldin, you’re not even trying to listen! Look, it’s as simple as this: The Earth lost its climate control, like a valve that was shut off. All this rain is the result of a correction she’s trying to make, and all signs point to the valve being at her northern pole!”
It actually made sense to me, but looking around the room, I realized I was the only one who thought so.
“Fine! Let’s say your metaphorical valve exists. How are you going to get there? How are you going to fix it, Merit?”
“Well, I’ll need one of the sailing yachts, and…”
“Ha! I’d gladly let Davy Jones take a sailing yacht before you!”
Taldin was being unreasonable. No one had given any decent explanation or solution in months. Besides, I didn’t see what we had to lose by trying.
“I’ll take him.”
Everyone turned to look at me. Even Justin looked surprised. Taldin huffed.
“You and what yacht, Haley?”
“Well, yours is the best one for this mission.”
“This isn’t a mission! It’s a suicide plan, concocted by an old fool! And you’ll never have mine.”
We’ll see about that.
Think this story should become a book or a short film? Let me know in the comments below!