Josephine O'Grady

United States

If a particle of your observations tugs at you a certain way, don't forget to write it down.

Message to Readers

I've written several pieces of writing about my experience of Hurricane Sandy,
but none quite as poetic as this. I also wasn't writing about it to say or enforce
something else, all it is is my story of Hurricane Sandy, and all you, reader, have
to do is listen. Do you like the spacing? I did the spacing like that so it wasn't
neat, because that what the words were like, all over the place, floating in my
head. Anyway, hope you enjoy!


April 29, 2015

PROMPT: Floating


The day it happened was like a dream.


Sometimes I wonder if that day would have

been scarier if I had understood it when it happened.


But I didn't.


Those five days I didn't feel completely awake.

Even for the rest of that year, I don't think I understood

what had happened. It was hard to imagine my life 

before Hurricane Sandy.


We left our home the night before it happened,

taking some clothes, books, and our dog with us. 

As the car pulled out of our driveway, I took one 

last look at my town.


It would be my last time seeing it normal for a long time.


.    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .


I was sitting on my bed, many miles inland, when the 

winds began to start. They were whipping, stronger than any

winds I had ever felt in my life. Rain began pelting down, 

hitting the window with all the force the sky could muster.


Strangely, I wasn't scared.

Though we had only arrived the night before,

it felt like years to me.

The hours went by so slowly.

I spent most almost all my time reading 

and writing. 

And as I sat, clutching my notebook,

words swam through my head.


When we returned home, and roads were

torn to pieces and houses were knocked over and

on their sides, I once more turned to words,

writing constantly about things that now hardly 

seem like they mattered. But maybe I was

just trying to make my life normal again, in the

midst of a ruined world.


At the time, it seemed like no matter how 

many words I wrote and read, my town was a broken

window that could not be fixed.


But as the year went on, the sore spot 

in my heart began to heal. And now I am here,

recalling that year, those five days, without



In the end, me and my floating head of words made it through.


See History
  • April 29, 2015 - 1:39pm (Now Viewing)

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