He returns to the worksite after dinner. He’s going solo tonight. No one else wanted the overtime. That’s fine by him. He’ll take it all.
He turns on the floodlight then climbs in the backhoe, spending the next four hours prepping for the foundation to be laid this week.
I don’t know how I got here. I don’t know how long I’ve been here. I don’t know where here is. I only know I’m buried in dirt and the rain is pelting the ground above me.
There is no escape.
She takes her coffee out to the balcony and leans on the railing, surveying the construction next to her building. Large drops fall from the dark clouds.
Here we go again.
She settles onto the chair to watch the rainfall, cradling her mug in both hands. The rain gains momentum, doubling in an instant. Another downpour in the last eight hours.
That giant hole they prepped last night is going to fill with muddy water.
Something long breaks the surface of the water. She peers closer, but can’t make it out. She picks up her cell and opens the camera, zooming in on the object.
She drops her phone and knocks over her coffee as she scrambles out of her chair.