Torn by torrents (Kerry)

With her dress tangled on the branch she couldn’t move. The wind howled and the rain pelted down. She couldn’t see where John had gone. Last she’d known they were holding hands as the roaring tide buffeted them down the main street. Was there no end to this nightmare?

Pat and John enjoyed their morning coffee at Rita’s, sitting quietly with the crossword in the sun. It was an opportunity to sort out the day’s activities, such as they were these days, and to simply connect. As soon as they got home John would be out in the garden if she hadn’t worked out a schedule with him.

Now she was suspended in this roaring flood. She cowered as a huge shed rumbled past. Others who had been caught up in the water were floating by desperately grabbing at anything solid. Pat was grateful for the tree in a way although she also knew that if the water rose higher she could be in trouble.

She pulled at her dress. It was very tough material. There was no way she’d be able to tear it. Momentarily she considered stripping it off but never in the main street of her town. She’d lived here all her life and had her dignity and her reputation to think of.

It was then she remembered Salty. Surely they had brought Salty with them this morning to Rita’s. Where was he? If only she could come up with some satisfactory explanation for this sudden tsunami in her mountain village. How long would it last?

Pat realised that she was free and could move away from the tree. Bracing herself against the rushing torrent she moved one hand at a time along the branch of the tree. She stretched across the gap to the metal railing alongside the road and grasped it with both hands.

As she felt her feet touch the ground below the railing she knew that the water was beginning to go down. But there was something caught on the fence at her feet. She thought she recognised the red shirt.