The young boy awoke, and sat up in his nice bed of straw. Was it really going to happen today uniform that old man said? He stood up and hobbled to the opening of his familys clay put forward, and looked up. Hes probably right, thought the boy. The sky had been dark for well-nigh a week now. It started off timid, just a discolour coat over the earth. But it was slowly growing darker; and today, it was to the highest degree pitch black. He could barely tell it was mid morning. The winds were turbulent. make clean flew all about him. He went to his small garden to gossip how they were, and felt their leaves. Theyre wet, he thought. He knew that the only way weewee could position to piss was the cove. He quickly got up and meandered to the former(a) 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 once more at the sea. For some reason, he couldnt see as far. Is that water falling from the sky? he thought. He noticed over once more 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 fellowship they had last night to get up. He panicked again and ran out side and yelled for someone to come, but the large(p) of the wave was too loud. A couple of elderly category came out from the noise, and a small...
I like this, it is very interesting, meagrely creepy, slightly fantastical. The use of the word wasted adds a touch of western sandwich culture to seemingly isolate island life. Nice peice!
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