Sally- FWG-FB 300 word flash fiction based on the photo below. Triggers: Human tragedy and death

They called her Sally, but nothing could slow her down. Her winds and rain so powerful that she burst through those levees as if they never stood. The fierce sound of the rushing water sent me and Boudreaux fleeing up the already rickety stairs. He reached back behind me and jerked his tool belt from the coat rack. He took my wrist and pulled me to the attic entrance, sending me up first. He slid his foot through the opening just as the infested waters stopped below. It was no time before he penetrated the roof with his hammer, tearing through the shingles with the putty knife he used for work. His quick thinking saved us.

The little that we owned violently bounced off every wall in the place until an unearthly silence came over the ward. The sweltering heat made this feat the more difficult. Reaux exited, dragging me with him. We sat near to the sun, praying to heaven that the National guard would reach us soon, only entering back in at night when random gunfire would ring out. I kept my eyes closed after looking across the way and seeing Mr. LeBlanc screaming from the second floor of his dwelling, his face pressed against the glass, fogging up the window and writing help with his index finger right before the swamp took him. There was nothing we could do. This went on for three days and nights. Our own government managed to chum the waters for the many gators looting this very neighborhood.

Once we were rescued, we boarded the first charter bus out, ended up in Houston. The stench and horridness haunt my every thought. When I asked Reaux why we returned, his only answer was “I had to.” I knew then he couldn’t erase the memories either and was hoping for some kind of closure. He kicked around the remnants of our once home with his steel toed boot, finally knocking through every piece of dry wall left standing. He fell to the ground, taking his hair into both fists and screaming at the top of his lungs. That was the first day of the rest of our lives. Long live the city.