June 19, 2030. Miami is still underwater. When the storm surge receded, the water levels went down, and there are actually a few more spots above water than there used to be. But now it’s holding steady at a few feet in most places. And it’s not going to change anytime soon.
June 18, 2030. The place where Alejandra works is called Gaia House. It’s a community center for people of all beliefs. They have Christians, Jews, Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists, and more. They even have atheists and agnostics, although obviously those people don’t have any worship services.
June 16, 2030. My first thought on Friday was that the weekend is not the best time to apply for jobs, especially in a small town like Carbondale. What I can do, though, is look around and ask around. So I decided to do just that.
June 14, 2030. Today has been a much better day. I had a long talk with Alejandra last night over a few mojitos. She helped me realize that I’m more than just homesick. Ever since leaving Miami, I’ve been feeling survivor’s guilt and a sense of helplessness.