I rolled a random prompt wheel, and here’s the outcome!

Sunlight streamed through my shades as my bed creaked with old age. I quietly flipped off my covers to go outside, even though I knew no one could hear me. I was all alone now, fending for myself until I reached Madagascar, Africa.

Last night had been rough. Waves as tall as mountains crashed down on Little Ann, and it seemed relentless until the early morning hours. I remember clouds swirling together like a pestering cowlick up above. I should’ve obeyed. I should stayed inside. But I didn’t, and that’s what caused my doom. To my man’s fairness, the storm gave warnings. Warnings I should’ve listened to. The cat tail clouds. The yellow-tinted sky. Even the baseball-sized hail should’ve been obvious to me then! But it wasn’t.

 

I called to my old man, “I think we should head south! That’ll get us between Saudi Arabia and Sadan! Then we’ll be there days ahead!”

Instead, he spat at me, “Dis none of my teachings sink into yer brain? A storm’s a brewing! I can feel ‘er in me bones! Let’s go north, to escape it!”

“Oh, Pops! It’s just the heat wave comin’ through! It’ll be over in no time!” I regarded his warning and unraveled the rope. “Let’s go!”

The man looked uncertain for a moment. He looked into the sky, even though he would see nothing. He was blind and sailing with his son as a guide. The war must’ve made him go insane for sure.

Finally, he murmured something under his breath, then nodded. Together, we sailed off into our downfall.