nor any drop

That kind of thing must happen sometimes.

The flooding drove everyone out of town and into a little government refugee camp. I had no idea if I'd get anything back, what would be destroyed, if I had insurance, or if this little fluke of the weather would ruin me forever. I was always a half step away from ruin at the best of times.

The camp consisted of refugees from a few towns. There wasn't much to do besides eat our rationed food and wait for news, so after a day or two I spent my free time wandering--any more time in a little tent and I'd have gone stir-crazy. In my wanderings I ran into a girl from another town, who was in just the same situation as me. We spent the days talking, and it was just like we'd known each other our whole lives. Suddenly the prospect of ruin seemed insignificant--I'd found a way to deal with it that nothing could ever take from me.

When finally we were told we could go home, we had to part ways for a time--long enough to learn the fate of our homes, to learn whether we had a chance of rebuilding. It was wrenching, but even as I went through the paperwork and the long wait, I knew that there was a bright future just a phone call or email away, on a crumpled slip of paper in my jacket pocket.

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