Erosion

The rain made a sound like the drumming of fingers, as if a host of demons had climbed the cabin to probe for weaknesses, shrouded in water and darkness. The storm spit down the chimney and the fire hissed and flickered.

“It’s getting worse,” Kendrick decreed, a sour look on his face. There were fifteen of them gathered around the hearth—a family of five from the house next door, three college students from the opposite cabin, a single mother with two kids from further down the beach, and Kendrick’s own wife and children. This was the most any of them had spoken in hours.

They had thought it wise to band together for company and warmth, but that was three days ago. Now the firewood had nearly run out, and the rain showed no signs of stopping. Read the rest of this entry »