Alastair Macleod 
Tide In Her Kitchen 

’She felt angry, how could this happen, couldn’t we stop it?
The water crept higher and higher – strangely there was no wind. A strong wind
would have had it crashing over, sweeping along the stone pier.
She stood transfixed in horror as the water gently lapped the top. In disbelief she watched as it crept slowly over the dark rim of stone, then run thinly along in towards the houses, to the sandbags. She grabbed towels and raced to the front door, packing them furiously along the bottom.
Returning to the kitchen window she became aware of a strange sensation. To the eye it looked as if she were afloat – dark water stretched away, right from the front of her home across to the next pier also under water’