Monday, Feb. 4, 2002
“One year a flood hit our town, and it was among the most horrible things that ever happened. Over 20 people were killed, and I liked three of them. It made me very sad.

For a week we had to camp out on the top of our house since the floodwater reached to our second floor bedrooms. Our parents hated it, but me, Goose, and Stephanie loved it. We pretended the glaciers had melted and we lived in a post-apocalyptic nightmarish world where land was a resource more valuable than gold. This was years before Waterworld, mind you.

I overheard mom and dad talking one night about how the food and water supplies were running short. Mom insisted we would all be fine, that the floodwater would retreat before we could starve or die of thirst. Dad didn’t like being without a plan, so he started talking about which of us would be eaten first. I was scared, naturally, but also felt pretty sure I was a shoo-in to avoid being eaten because I’m so thin and there’s not much meat on me.

Sure enough, Dad narrowed it down to Stephanie and Goose, and eventually decided Goose was big and heavy and would make more servings. Mom was horrified at this talk, and chided Dad to no end for such ridiculous thoughts. Goose was mostly fat, she said, and Stephanie was more muscular, not to mention Stephanie seemed to be plowing through the rations at twice the rate of everyone else.

Needless to say, nobody got eaten and the floodwater started receding the very next day. The house was musky and damp when we returned to it, but all was soon back to normal. I did manage to bite Stephanie a few days later, just to see what I was missing, and trust me, it wasn’t much.”

“Flood”