Earth, Water, and Fire

Two vacation houses sat somewhere with green grass, a canopy of trees, an overcast sky, and scattered ponds. Everything felt cool.

My parents told me to go outside to check on our animal, a bear, and to see if it needed any food. I ran down the oak stars and trotted up to the back doors. My boyfriend was standing there, expressionless, and asking me what to do. My eyes immediately darted to the back door, where I saw a white wooden frame without any glass. Both of the doors had  no glass, and they were starting to let the water inside.

It wasn’t raining, and I couldn’t hear the hiss and crash of the ocean, but there was dark gray salt water rushing over the brick walkway and through the open doorway. I stepped outside to see if I could find the bear, but the pair of black beady eyes staring back at me were not a bear’s. A massive, black seal popped its head up from a small pool of water and bared its teeth at me. Frightened, I shouted for my boyfriend to help me close the doors to keep the seal away. We struggled through the rushing water, but we finally closed both doors and bolted upstairs.

I wanted to see how our other house, the guest house next door, was doing with all the water. I went over and found no water. Just as I was about to leave I glanced out of a window and watched a small walkway lamp, lit with a flame, set a patch of golden dead grass on fire. I panicked, watching it start to set the entire lawn aflame, and ran back over to the main house. Just as I got to the dining room on the second floor it began raining, wetting everything just enough for the fire to disappear.