chapter 8:"* Storm season*"
291 Words
*August, Miami*
Maya and Elias had been in Florida 8 months.
Then the alert hit their phones: _Hurricane Watch. Category 2. Landfall in 72 hours._
*Boarding Up*
Plywood. Water. Batteries. Tape on the windows.
Maya was in her studio trying to save hard drives. Elias was at Home Depot with a line around the block.
Old Elias would’ve made it about control. “Stay inside. Don’t talk to anyone.”
New Elias texted: _You good? Need help with your balcony stuff? I’m on my way._
She said yes. Because needing help wasn’t a trap anymore.
*The 72 Hours*
Power flickered out night one. Candles. A battery fan. The sound of wind hitting glass.
They weren’t romantic about it. They were tired. Scared.
Maya’s client dropped her for “missing deadlines during a hurricane.” Elias’s dad called, panicked: “Why are you still there?”
Maya shut her laptop and looked at him. “I’m mad. I’m scared I’ll lose work. Are you mad I’m not ‘calm’ right now?”
“No,” he said. “You’re allowed to be scared. I’m scared too.”
No fixing. Just sitting in it together.
*After the Eye*
The storm passed south of them. Damage, but no flood. Power back in 36 hours.
Maya lost the client. Gained three smaller ones from a Miami mutual aid group who saw her post: _Designer, available, storm hit my schedule not my skill._
Elias used his PTO to help neighbors tarp roofs instead of hiding inside.
On their balcony, debris everywhere, she said: “We survived the first one.”
He handed her coffee. “Storm season lasts till November. We’ll survive the rest too.”
He meant the hurricane. She knew he also meant them..
- Writer
