He watched from his mountain top encampment as the world below was engulfed by the unrestricted flow of rubble. As the remains of cities continued it's tide, it mixed with lake and sewer water, reducing it's over all viscosity, causing it to move even faster.
He knew this would happen. Though, admittedly, he didn't know it would happen like this. People had laughed at him when he first made the decision to live alone on the mountain top, away from the modern distractions of flashing lights, whistles and dings. He always knew that it was they that were owned by their property, not the other way around. And owned they were. The irony made him chuckle. At least he still had his sense of humor.
But he knew. He knew he would be safe atop his mountain. As he processed the information of the rigid tidal, he grew quite confident that the wave would not reach him. But, still, he was worried. No, the brick and glass, plastic and sewerage would not reach him, but he knew that was not his only concern. He knew that the people, the survivors, would prove to be the biggest challenge of this tragedy. The bricks would not reach him, but the people would.
He envisioned it. A dirty broken convoy of men, women and children climbing his mountain. Carrying with them the remnants of their possesions. Thirsty. Hungry. Some dying during the climb. Children being abandoned on the choppy shoreline, there would be nothing to sustain them, so they are left to the rubble. He saw it in his minds eye, so clear that he could smell their dust and asbestos caked perspiration. He could hear their wails. By not making a choice, they had chosen to ride. They rode, or they died.
The hermit, then, realized it was his time to make a choice of his own. Surely, it would be any day now that the procession of survivors would reach the base of his mountain. He must decide. Start preparing food, beds and medicine, or bar his doors and windows, with a note taped to the main entrance, saying: "I told you so."
Awesome series, Dimo. Keep rocking it.
What Phox said!
Nice, Dimo!