As the flood approached, our bad habits left us.
They must have known we were not long for this world.
Pride went to the plants, envy to the animals, and so on. All’ we had left were our manners.
Thousands, like I, who lacked the sense to leave earlier, were in line, at the dock, barely standing in rising water, quietly waiting for Serenity to arrive, the last ship out.
“Room for one more,” said the captain.
We all froze, stuck in indecision.
The captain sailed on. I left a note in a bottle.
Our last words?
“No. After you.”
