A flock of white seabirds soared over the empty city. The humans' spires and grumbling, honking machines lay silent and still. Their masters left when the levies failed, abandoning their homes to the sea.
There were still dangers in the muddy water. Alligators wallowed in the submerged lawns and hawks nested in the eaves of skyscrapers. Hidden pools of forgotten poison seeped up from the depths here and there, staining the water with an oily sheen. But the humans were gone. The city was theirs.
The flock landed on the peaked roof of a sunken duplex and cawed their triumph.
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Everyday DrabblesShort Story
A drabble is a very short story one hundred words long. No more, no less. They are designed for maximum impact in the least amount of space. For 2019, I'll be posting a drabble every day.