From The Edge Of The Deep Green Sea

[in which i realize that i’m supposed to be, like, an adult.]

no fiction, today. today’s daily prompt isn’t quite doing it for me.
and besides, i can’t think of blogging any boring fiction, right now:

there’s a flood, outside.

if you’re european, you might have heard about it on the news, already, and if you’re living in germany, austria or the czech republic, there’s a good chance, you’re even suffering through it. here in germany, the headlines say hochwasser-drama and jahrhundertflut, the latter meaning “flood of the century”.
personally, i think, it’s a little early on in the century to be giving away records like that, but they already did that in 2002, so we’ll stick to it.

almost eleven years ago, in august of 2002, i witnessed the last jahrhundertflut.
it started out very sudden, after a couple of days of non-stop rain, i walked home from school on a monday afternoon, face down (because –  even though they do it in movies – no one ever looks up when it rains! think about it.) and some kids ran down the street, shouting things like “look, so much water!” i raised my head and knew: something wasn’t okay.
i was standing at the edge of a foot-deep brownish pond that once used to be a simple street.

there was no way i was going to wet my feet and blue sneakers wading through this disgusting, oversized puddle! but it was so big – there seemed to be no way around it. so in my childish helplessness, i decided to turn and walk back to my school, where my teachers just instructed me to cross the street, like it was no big deal, at all. frustrated (and feeling a little misunderstood – after all, the entire street was flooded), i let myself be sent outside and waded home.

“the sewerage will take in all the water”, my father told me over the phone, while i let my shoes dry on the heater, “there are no floods, where we live, we’re too far from the river.” , he said. that calmed me down for a bit.

but it turned out he was wrong. the manholes had become fountains overnight, and i feared for the water to flow over the rim of my rubber boots, when i stood on the brink of a vast, dirty sea.

you’re probably thinking:
why is she talking about this, when it has happened eleven years ago?
well, the rivers are swelling. they have been for the past few days, now. some neighborhoods have been evacuated, and experts predict the water level to rise by another meter. that would add up to nine meters in total.
and that, dear stranger, are seven too much.

i am worried.
i am worried that i won’t be able to cross the street, because my old rubber boots don’t fit my feet, anymore.
i am worried that we’ll have a power outage like we had in 2002.
i am worried that the ground water breaks through the basement floor, again.
because this time, i’m not the kid.
this time, i’m the adult – and i don’t feel the least bit prepared for this.

so bear with me, if i can’t be productive. i’ll try, nonetheless.
fingers crossed for everyone, who is worse off than me or struggles with another monster, entirely.

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