The Storm

But the second night was different. A storm came.

It started with wind, then rain, hard rain that hit the tent like small stones. Tomas woke up first. The floor of the tent was wet. Water was coming in at the corner, slowly at first, then fast.

“Dad,” Ana said. “My bag is wet.” “And there are insects everywhere.”

She was right. The rain had pushed the insects in under the cloth, and they crawled across the wet floor. Ana sat with her knees up, frightened.

“It’s okay,” Tomas said, but his voice was tight. He moved their bags to the dry corner. They couldn’t go outside; the rain was too heavy. So they waited. Tomas held Ana close and told her stories until the wind grew tired. Some time near morning, the rain stopped.

When they opened the tent, the lake was grey and calm again, as if nothing had happened. Everything they owned was wet.