When the Storm Comes

While the storm dances outside, rats huddle in the shadows at the far end of the attic. Julie can barely make them out from where she sits, an old wooden-handled axe and a battery-operated lantern by her side, the gable window rattling in its frame above. Other shadows shuffle about down close to the eaves. Raccoons, possums. Julie tries not to think what else. Ghosts, probably. Wind tears at the old family house where her grandparents, Mère and Père, had lived, and waves slosh against the walls outside. A hurricane named Steve. Julie laughs, bitter. […]