A Dream

Apr 17, 2014

Read by Michael Lee

Thirty minutes left
I scavenge through my house
Grabbing my karaoke machine
All my things
I don’t want them to get wet or float away

Twenty-five minutes left
A messed up pipe
My house will become a swimming pool
Then a memorial site to my family
And a pile of dead rubble
The walls breathe in water

Twenty minutes left
I put on my jacket
The one that I wore when we bought this house
And stuff my pockets with everything
I want to remember living here
I want to bring it all

Fifteen minutes left
What can I do?
I grab all the pillows of my bed
And let them fly out of my room
My mom picks them up
She cages them in the car

Ten minutes left
I read my book out loud
My voice echoes across an empty room
My cat lies in my lap
Protecting me
He can see the danger in my eyes

Five minutes left
I am afraid

One minute left
My dad does a countdown
We rush out the door
We wait for the fountain
But the water is running late
So we wait