I woke to the worst disaster in history.
My heart jolted as my eyes opened to the inside of a tent.
“I think she’s awake,” said someone just outside. Dad? He poked his head in, smiling. “You awake? It’s almost one.”
“You dragged me camping?”
“A storm hit early this morning. You wouldn’t wake up, so we had to carry you. The cyclone destroyed half the coast; we had to move inland.”
“Where are we?”
“Come out and see.”
I poked my head outside. Fields all around; there was a horse behind a rabbit proof fence.
Flash fiction for Friday Fictioneers.