Tansy Undercrypt
Author, Illustrator, Purveyor of Doom & Whimsy


September 7th 2017 in Microfiction

These were long days of work and barricading. When preparations were well in hand at home, they wandered about the neighborhood helping the others to baton down the hatches. “You’re sure this is your first hurricane? Gosh darn good at this, both of you!” Elwin said by way of thanks. They smiled. “Don’t mix any whiskey in the bottled water,” one of them teased, and they all laughed. “The ocean rages, but it’s not mad at YOU,” one said to Tina, on Day Three of almost no sleep because of her anxiety. “This place is like one big blanket fort,” they added, finishing with the windows and leaving her feeling better. At the house, they went out back to talk with the rest. “Dive deeper; don’t panic and don’t crowd – you’ll smash yourselves into the dock,” one said to the manatees. “Stay half-submerged if you can – and don’t grab onto anything at the shore or you’ll need dentures afterwards,” one said to the crocodiles. “I feel guilty for being excited,” one said, opening some champagne on the lanai. “I think we’ve balanced that with being on hand to help,” offered the other. They slipped into the pool, letting their legs transform to tails; the dogs joined them (turning to seals).

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