Ernesto, Day 2
276 words.
Back for a second. Will post while I can. Ernesto is still bearing down on us. This morning, we woke up to the terrifying realization that the wind had whipped up to the point where our wind chimes sounded, and the rain was pouring down in slightly more than moderate volumes.
I decided to venture out to work. Naturally, some kind soul wrecked their car on I95 again, but this time I avoided it by going straight through the heart of Petersburg. Or maybe it was Colonial Heights. It was some kind of run-down, graffiti-painted urban area I’ve never been in before, and hopefully won’t ever be in again. Fortunately, the street hooligans must have been waiting until after the storm to start their looting rampage and random violence, so I wasn’t accosted. But there was one bad moment when I found myself driving next to the Appomattox River while the area was under a flash flood warning. I kept my cool, though, and drove away from the river.
I came back home early to prepare for the nucleus of the storm to pass directly overhead. We’ve got wood, we’ve got matches, we’ve got Internet access. Now we’re huddled in our house while the lights flicker periodically. We haven’t heard anything more about the cannibals lately, but we know they’re out there. We heard a deep explosion that could only be the sound of someone else’s transformer dying in a fiery shower of sparks. The rain is pounding against the shingles. The wind is blasting into the siding. The microwave clock is blinking “00:00” from the power surges. I hope we make it through the day.
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