Fire, flood or feelings
I was told a story today.
Last January, in Montecito, California, it was raining. A lot. Too much rain for the slopes to hold it all. Incredible amounts of rock and dirt and mud began to break loose. A landslide was certain.
The storyteller told me about two people that he knew: Connor and his dad, John. When the slide started, they were in their home. They realized they could not escape the wall of mud about to slam into their home, so held on to each other as it struck. The house disintegrated. Vaporized. Connor and his dad were separated. John did not survive.
Connor was swept away down the slope. He was electrocuted five times as he was carried away in the slide. His clothes were removed by the force. A piece of rebar pierced his neck. He was pinned under a car and drowning in the water, until another car crashed into that car and released him. He finally found himself near the ocean, found the highway, and walked naked until he was discovered. (You can read more here and here.)
One o…
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