Floating House Reunion Ends

The time of feasting had ended. I watched my father untie from the other floating homes around us. Joyfully, my sister waved her teddy bear's arm to all the neighbors, young and old, as they also untied and pulled their anchors up. My mother stowed the ropes in their chest for next season.

The sky thundered a warning far over the horizon. There was no time left. I listened to the clicks as anchor chains raised all around. My father had gone inside the cellar to hoist ours. My mother called for me to come in, but I was transfixed on the sky.

Why did it have to be this way? Months ahead of life in our house, isolated, floating on the sea, steadily south, but adrift. The gods would will us through whatever trials there were ahead. The wind had picked up, blowing my hair wildly every which way.

My father's voice was urgent, "Get inside, NOW!"

My heart sailed off with the others. This was why some jumped. I sighed then turned to enter as mother boarded up the last window and father barred the door behind.