Wednesday, September 21, 2005

Impending Doom

Category 4, squatting in the Gulf and soaking up that good global warming. Bearing down on the Texas coast, my mother and in-laws are fleeing here to Austin. Mom called, worried, she keeps grabbing 'one more thing' from inside, pictures mostly, as the roads fill up and the gas stations run out. "Just get what you need and come here. We'll just have to let the rest stay in our memories," I tell her.


I dreamed last night that Rita flattened the Seabrook house. Everyone was out, everyone was safe. Everyone but my father, and now he was really gone.

A realization, I think of him as tied to that house, somehow in the walls, in the smells. What will it be like when it's gone? Where will he be?