Picture Prompt 1

Picture Prompt No. 1: Abandoned

Topic: Abandoned
Length: 431 Words:
POV: Bird
Word(s) not to mention:the bird.

abandonedsource: /flickr/baldeaglebuff

In the beginning there were people. They were there by the hundreds: fishermen, tourists, housewives, and teachers. By the end, there was only the silence they left behind. It seems that without support, everything crumbles. At first the foundation cracks. Then the walls decay. They could have built levies; they could have, but they didn’t. They said there was nothing that they could do. It was inevitable and in the end, there was no way to prevent it.

They said the water came without warning, but that was not true. It came with a warning they didn’t wish to see. Instead they filled their heads with senseless things. They talked about the quality of fish and the prices they sought. They talked about the long hours and their unfair wages.

It didn’t matter to us. As they survived, so did we. We lived on Big Macs and Whoppers stolen from the green bins they left outside. We snuck french fries from the hands of toddlers. Sometimes we circled abandoned picnic blankets in summer. We liked fried clams and chicken nuggets, stale bread and cotton candy and so like them, we ignored it. What did we have to worry about in a world that was inevitable.

The water rose. Not a little at a time, but a flood that filled the streets with brackish water. They shut down the schools to keep their children safe. They held press conferences and meetings, argued and cried, but then the water receded. For awhile all was quiet. But it happened again. And then again and still they remained shocked.

The streets stopped draining and what was once a week long crisis became an indefinite massacre. We watched the world from above. We flew across the rooftops and watched those green bins sink with our precious cargo left inside. When the water rose, it took their family homes. It took their children; it took their pride. Then the winds picked up and still the water rose. One flooded street became two. Two streets became three until one house remained standing.

If only someone had seen it coming. If only someone knew.

We flocked together, gathered our survivors, and our wounded. We took one last look across the bay. The black water below scraped against the rocks as our roost creaked. Soon this too would be underwater. The waves left only mud in its wake. For the final time, we circled the air. Everyone watched, some even cared, but still no one came. Instead the humans left. They piled into their automobiles and disappeared for dryer shores.

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