A Snail’s Pace

September 25th, 2004


One day, I was swimming, when I heard my dad's landlord, Bob, say something about a hurricane heading straight for us. Now, my dad lives on a little island just off the east coast of Florida. My first question was, "What category is it?" He replied with, "It's a category 4 right now, but it will probably be a category 5 by the time it will be near here." So while Bob and my dad talked, I got out of the pool and got dressed into some dry clothes. Then I went back outside and asked my dad about the hurricane.

"Its almost a category 5 and its been named Frances." So for the next week we prepared for the upcoming storm by: buying more non-perishable food, removing all loose items from outside, putting down the "blast shield" (storm shutter), and freezing water in case the power goes out. The people that owned boats had to move them somewhere else. I got to meet some new people because some of the boat owners didn't come over very often. Since the people around my dad's house are like family, everyone was helping prepare.

It was Friday when the power went out. I was watching TV while my dad did stuff online when suddenly the room became quiet. My dad had a backup battery for his computer, so the room didn't go completely silent, but I NEED power. So I was bored out of my mind when my dad suggested I listen to the radio so I can find out what's going on with Frances. So I took the radio while my dad went out to get his scooter (electric) to bring inside. While listening to the radio, I found out nothing except that Frances was slowly creeping its way towards Florida's east coast. Some people were saying it was moving at a "snail's pace." My dad didn't like that though, because he just wanted it to be over and done with. When it got really late, since we had lit some candles, we had to blow them out. It got almost pitch black. The only light was the moonlight coming in through the window.