Homewrecker

It's been four years this week since that no-account, home-wrecking bitch destroyed my happy home. She wasn't happy just to destroy my life, she destroyed the life of all she came in contact with. Like a crack addict with a vendetta, she blew into town, took all that she could and left the rest of us to shake our heads and wonder how we would ever pick up the pieces.

That morning I started it like any other morning. I would wake up before the kids drink my coffee on my steps and enjoy the quiet morning air, the view of scrub pines, the morning light dancing on the Gulf of Mexico, listening to the wind and the cicadas which had come out of hiding that year.

I went inside to bake vegan cupcakes for a friends son's birthday party, the phone rang. I knew it was going to be about Katrina, her name was on every one's lips.

"Hey Jt, you gotta go." It was Mikey, a dear friend in Key West who rarely called.
"Come on now, how many times have you ever evacuated?" I countered back.
"That doesn't matter, this storm did more damage as a one here in the Keys than most threes, I am not kidding," referring to the Saffir Simpson rating system of hurricanes.
"Well, I am baking cupcakes for a party and they haven't even issued a warning for the Mississippi Coast yet."
" Jt, you gotta go, I lost my car to the surge in my parking lot."
Mikey lived on relatively high ground for Key West. That's not saying much when a storm blows through and you live on a two by four island that at it's highest point is fourteen feet above sea level.
I'll look at the news and think about it."
"Be safe."
"K, love ya."

As soon as I hung up, my phone continued to ring incessantly with more damage reports from the Keys telling me I might think about leaving my beloved little shrimping village. I went on with my baking.