In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Can’t Drive 55.”
ON THE MORNING the levee broke, Roy Gatineau braved the storm to take care of one last job. The name wasn’t important – though it didn’t bother him knowing their names or personal details. He preferred to focus on the financial aspect of the situation. Sure, some of them probably committed offenses no worse than he himself had done. Maybe they simply pissed off the wrong person. But that was the beauty of it, in his eyes. There’s nothing stopping somebody from coming to take him out either. Fate is equal opportunity. He felt his time would come.
But there was something about that last job that stuck with him. The man, an old preacher from the heart of the Crescent City, was completely at peace. Even though his city was being ripped apart by the gale force winds and torrential rains, even as he stood there knowing full well that this visitor meant his time on the planet was winding down to a few ticks, he had said with a calm, clear voice and a gentle smile: “Everybody saying this is a day only the Lord could make.”
It was this mantra that echoed in Roy’s head as he went down to the swollen river, stripped off his clothes, and jumped in. For in the water was his salvation, his forgiveness, his confession.
The keyword line, per prompt instructions, was taken from “The Levee’s Gonna Break” by Bob Dylan.