The Hurricane by Jacob Yankey

And in my version of the


story, the hurricane actually

does make landfall; wobbling a bit in the Atlantic, she gains a little earnest vigor and the ole

girl absolutely

starches the

coastline.


And it’s the whole thing:


sticky shingles are peeled off one-by-one from rooftops while wires from

electrical poles hiss and jump and contort and purge

white lightning, the reporting

weatherman, wetter than

he’s ever been before, stands

at an angle (trying to fight

against the gusts), someone’s

cat gets sucked into the air

by an updraft – you’ve seen

the movies.


And I live.


But my home is destroyed and in an interview for national

news I say something inspirational like, “the storm may have taken my house, but never our community” or some other

bullshit like that. Someone

posts about my quote online –

shares a soundbite, shares a video –

suddenly I’m famous, suddenly people are praying for me and my family, donating to the red cross because of me.


And for only a moment

I am erected in stone –

never dead, never dying –

my immortality lies in my most sincere

words. I do not

go the way of the

common world.

Jacob Yankey is a senior from Wilmington, N.C. majoring in Chemistry and minoring in Creative Writing with a focus in poetry. Following graduation, he would like to get into professional beekeeping, attend graduate school, or become a trophy husband.

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