Arizona often gets hit with monsoons and sometimes the storm is pretty fierce, but usually, even that is mellow compared to other parts of the country. The monsoon that hit in September was far from mellow. It’s weird how we get so use to all the noise in our lives, but I woke up at 3 a.m., and thought, “Something’s wrong.” What was wrong? It was quiet in the house… too quiet! The drone of the air conditioner wasn’t the only appliance off. The house was dark, the fan stopped whirling. The electricity tucked behind the walls was dead still, even the vibration of the pool pump stopped. It’s surprising how hard it is to sleep in the stillness. By 4 a.m. it was super, duper, humid, muggy, and uncomfortably hot in the house, even in the dark.
The rain was still coming down, but with all the streetlamps off, we couldn’t see how high it was. We got in our little normal size car, and rolled out into the street, where reality hit. The water was pretty high. Even crawling along in the dark, I could see how high the water shot up from the tires. The entire block had electricity issue. It wasn’t until we were on the main road that we realized how vast an issue it was. It took an hour and ten minutes to get to work. We were stuck on the freeway, then kicked off the freeway by large, pink signs. Parts of Arizona were flooded and the drains weren’t dragging the water off the road quick enough. I heard the drains over flooded and manhole covers were floating away. Cars were getting their tires stuck in the holes. Emory and I got to work and no kidding, three hours later, you’d NEVER know there was a state wide emergency for flooding. Welcome to sunny Arizona.
Our pool didn’t overflow, and we had no problems with the house. My friend never showed up to work, so I called her and she was in the area of town that got hit hard. Her carpet was soggy and there was countless issues. It caused a great deal of buzz out here. None of my blood had issues. I texted everyone out here and most of them seemed pretty carefree about it.
The news warned people not to play in it because the flooding was bringing the sewage up, and the industrial garbage cans were getting contents mixed into the water. Bummer. I have this unexplainable desire to play in unanticipated waterholes. If it was Florida, I might actually be 100% turned away, considering the alligators, but this time, I did get my feet wet in the parking lot, before I saw the news. The reporters showed kids playing in the flooding streets, and if I was twelve years younger, that would be me too, danger be damned. Now, my body just can’t stand the cold. It hurts. And the water did look cold, except the little puddles in the parking lot were nice and warm and made my clogs soggy.
What is the point of this story? The city is a dirty, dirty place to take opportunistic swims.
HBA book 1: 106/147 pages edited
Untitled: suspense/horror. Need to learn a little more on the topic, but starting to outline and piece some ideas together. Research might be fun.