The Storm of Port Deep

By Oliver Crainich

It was a gloomy night at Port Deep, and the sky was filled with clouds dark as the center of a black hole, blocking out almost all light from stars and the moon. The shadows from the street lamps and buildings were dark enough to hide an entire army, and the sound of waves crashing was louder than ever. The night watchmen were on their posts, looking for invading ships in the harbor, but they saw something much, much worse. It looked like a spinning top made of clouds, heading straight for Port Deep. It was a hurricane. 

The warning bell rang, and the townspeople barreled out of their houses, wondering what was happening. Their jaws dropped to the floor when the mayor, Jake Snow, described what was happening. Jake told everyone to stay calm, but there was no stopping the townspeople. Everyone rushed indoors, and right on time. The first wave of the storm surge came, and the boats from the harbor came rushing through the streets, breaking holes in houses and splintering into millions of pieces. The roar of the waves sounded like hundreds of motorcycles revving their engines, and the wind tore the tops off of houses. This carried on for hours, and the screams of people getting swept away couldn’t be heard over the storm. 

After three hours, everything fell silent. The people still left picked pieces of wreckage off them and assessed the damage. The water was still a foot high, and the wreckage continuously washed up on the shore. Slowly, the sealife and the seaweed flowed back to the sea. 

The mayor stepped up to his half-destroyed podium and spoke. ”Although we have lost many today, we will recover. We will build back stronger, and we will be the best version of Port Deep we can. The process will be slow, but we will fix everything.” And so they did.

 

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