Three children fell asleep in their straw-roof home, exhausted from the day of school and play. Their faces serene did not move as the waters outside rose higher than usual. Grandmother and Grandfather did not open their eyes for they were so tired from the arduous work of forming a new boat had taken them from dawn to dusk. Gradually, the waters crept into the house, soon covering the floor and reaching for their bodies. Numerous drops of water started to fall from the heavens, creating a soothing whish to calm the household.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
A man awoke from his sleep, shaking his head. Thank God that was just a dream.
Slowly, he shuffled to the open window where moonlight made its way into his own peaceful household. The front lights brought the United States flag out from dark outdoors, making the man smile. As long as the flag bravely waved in the air, fighting for its honor, safety seemed near.
Despite this feeling of relief, he could not return to sleep. It was far too soon. Thoughts about those unfortunate deaths to come in the dream would not leave his mind to rest. Even as he continued into the day, flashes of people drowning momentarily stunned him. He would be in good company soon, so it was not nearly as horrible as it could have been.
The man turned to see his long-time friend and ally, Ernest Sunne, approaching. “Richard! How have you been? The gas company running smoothly?”
“Even better! It’s all politics. Support the right people and it’s sure to skyrocket!” the man replied enthusiastically while waving his hands toward the city hall.
“You look awful. What happened? Did you and your wife argue about the electricity bill again?” Ernest asked light-heartedly.
With a shake of the head, Richard looked up solemnly. “Just a dream. A nightmare, really. People, innocent people, were drowning to their deaths.”
Then, Richard looked over his shoulder to where his friend had started to stare at. There stood hazy, transparent figures of three little children and an elderly couple glaring in their direction. Their clothes seemed . . . soaked. Their faces . . . akin to those in the nightmare.
They did not speak to him, perhaps because of the language difference, but it made the situation even more nerve-wracking. A chill seemed to enter the atmosphere, causing Richard to shiver.
“Let’s go,” he said with a wavering voice.
The week following, nightmares returned, though they expanded. It wasn’t just a small island. Florida, parts of India, parts of Europe fell beneath waves in detailed visions where smoke rose in massive quantities from his home state. Some dreams invoked him to smell the thick exhaust and cough like those in the visions.
Last night, hazy images of thousands seemed to crowd onto his own lawn, all pointing at the dark sky above. “The Earth demands you change your ways. She cries. We die or move from our homes. You cannot ignore it. You cannot any longer.”
CONTENT BY BRIANNA G HARTE
Copyright © 2015 Brianna G Harte. All rights reserved.
If you like this “little dabble” and want it to be continued, let me know in the comments!
**The content in this dabble is not meant to invoke any negative action against anyone or any entity. The content is meant to be enjoyed and used to help the author practice writing different genres.**