But That Wasn’t The Worst of It

The tornado struck after dusk, when the sky was already dark and clouds obscured the stars. But that wasn’t the worst of it: the earthquake hit an hour before, meaning we were all up and walking about checking on each other to see who needed help. So many of us with collapsed houses, unsafe on the inside, pelted by hail and then the angry finger of God himself carving out a path a mile-wide through what was left of our city. But that wasn’t the worst of it: the flood, at high tide, had raced through the heart of the city, tossing cars and buses, ignoring our clever city planning, inundating the lower areas, knocking out the power, weakening our foundations, setting us up for the quake to come. But that wasn’t the worst of it…

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