Atlantis

As the waters rose, so we built our walls higher.

Palisades against the beating waves. Levees holding back the charging rivers.

Catherine said we had to dig in, as she piled sandbags around her shopfront. “My family’s lived here for years. I’m not leaving now.”

And she wasn’t the only one. How many generations ago had our ancestors founded this city? How many of my family had worked to build these arches, squares and streets?

Water doesn’t care. The levee holds, but still it seeps from under our flagstones. Slowly, silently, lapping at our feet.

We should have built boats.