“It’s a beautiful rain outside. Would be perfect for movies, you lazybones” – i wrote her.
He was at the top of the roof when he fell, rolled down the shingles into the gutter that ran around the roofline; then blackness as he fell further.
Coming out of the dark after the long fall, he felt the others around him who had fallen, as they joined together to became a flood of water pouring out of the downspout, into the light.
Dark clouds bellowed and cried overhead. The nerve-rending sound drowned out her voice.
Stinking and tired he hauled Christopher from the river then, grabbing the nearest vine, he tied it about his waist and started to search frantically for Emily. The waters were raging as the rain poured down as she swept past him screaming and clinging for life on a splintered remnant of the boat he had built them.