From my rooftop, the village looks like a Vietnamese bay, littered with houseboats. I watch another neighbor disappear beneath the water.
Starts out very peaceful, even tranquil. Then reality hits. A tragic but effective ending.
Ouch. I really felt the whiplash in tone, as I was hit by the realization of what’s going on.
I suspect this might hit a bit close to home for readers who’ve experienced similar catastrophes. But I would think even those who’ve lived in FEMA trailers would recognize the sincerity behind the wry prose; being forced by circumstance to witness nature’s fury, and the sense of helplessness that goes along with it.
(Context: I live in flood-prone Metro Manila.)
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