Thomas Charles Henry

The Flood

Stubbornly, and with fatiguing effort, he waded through the flood. Each step a brief respite from that inexorable pull.

The land needed this water; thirsted, deep down. However, years of drought and compaction had hardened it against receiving such nourishment, and so the water lingered on the surface, unable to penetrate deeper.

He had been told similar stories about himself.

When finally he surrendered, the muddy earth caught him in a welcoming embrace. Water cascaded, filling his ears, eyes, nose, mouth, and lungs: driving away all else in its wake.

At last, he thought. This is what love feels like.