10:30 AM Australian Eastern Standard Time, a navy Corolla sedan rolled up to a garage door and stopped. The hand-brake ratchetted on, driver's door swung open, and a pair of leather pumps bounced across lawn. Whirling round in response to a scream from somewhere behind me, my heart stopped dead in its tracks. The spectacle facing me could have been a scene from a sixties surfing spool. Could have been if it weren't for one large difference: the four metre high wave plunging towards me wasn't a beautiful blue-green in colour, it was a horrible grey-brown. A girl in her late teens stood like Lot's wife maybe fifty metres away from me. She was one of the neighbours, only recently moved in. I called out to her, but there was nothing I could do except watch her get picked up by the torrent. I turned to my house, then to my car, hesitating, delaying, losing precious seconds that I knew would probably cost me my life. If this were a movie, a stopwatch would be running in the corner of the screen. Still I stood there in the middle of my driveway. There was a feeling in my stomach I'm sure is like a pilot gets during a carrier final approach, the not being able to decide whether to cut the engines or max them until you actually hit the deck. Flinging myself onto the roof of my car, I clutched at the roof bars, closed my eyes and held my breath. My heart pounded in my ears, still audible over the whirlwind-like roar coming from halfway up the street.

Well, come on. I knew before I met you just how we would end. What are you waiting for? Why wasn't I even wet yet? I've heard you're supposed to have a flood of thoughts when you're about to die, I didn't like the pun. One face stuck in my mind, the face of a late relative. It had only been a month since his death, and now it looked like I was to join him. At least he died in an interesting way, there was no fun in getting taken out by a natural disaster. Actually, there was little fun in death whatsoever right now. I could hold my breath no longer, and gulped for air. My timing couldn't have been worse. The wave struck simultaneously, and I instead inhaled murky liquid. To say that I clearly remember the next few minutes would be lying. The car slammed against the front of the house before rising to the surface. I choked and spluttered, spewing out water and gasping for air.

A week later, the water has gone down enough for me to return home. But what is there to return to? Although my house is structurally intact, very little of its contents is still inside. My car is drivable but unroadworthy. I don't know how the girl from across the street is still alive, I don't know how I am still alive, and now I am left to question whether my life can be rebuilt. In times like this, the Australian spirit shows, and everyone becomes "mate." Friends, enemies, complete strangers, tied together by one thing. I would like to somehow thank each and every Australian for doing what they do, and I dedicate this writeup to them all. To those who have lost nothing yet to a disaster such as these floods, I ask you to be prepared.

Love,
S