Whoever would’ve thought it could happen, he mused to himself. It literally came out of nowhere, a thief in the night. No one had seen it coming, not even those who should know better.
The chatter of fireworks caught his attention, the sound of laughter and distant music breaking into the still night. He looked down on the city below, stretched out like a tablecloth embroidered with thousands of gilded threads.
And it still kept happening which was the worrying part. It was relentless. But I guess you can get used to anything, he reflected, even this. A great story for the grandkids, one day. He hadn’t lost too much, a bit of damage to the roof and some shattered glasses. That was the good thing about living on the hill. Somehow the worst of it hadn’t reached here.
He refilled his glass and checked the time. Twenty minutes till the bewitching hour and the chance to draw a line under 2010, another year gone.
But it did keep things interesting, he thought with a wry smile. No one could complain that life was predictable. And really, there wasn’t that much broken across the city. A few houses lost, lots of cracks. And no one had died, after all. Mother Nature was simply flexing her muscles, showing us who is boss and keeping us humble.
He raised his glass in a silent toast to her. Round one to you but we’re on the comeback. The good old Kiwi spirit really does thrive with a challenge and we won’t give in. No, onward and upward. Time for a new start. 2011 is going to be Christchurch’s year.
Rachael Hawkey
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