The Killer Hoax
Jack looked on at the rising sun. A tear rode his cheek down to the lapping ocean at his boots. Since the wind had died down he had found no other survivors. His town, his station, his home, were now ocean wrecks. The sea and its waves had taken the place of the buildings inhabitants. Palm trees protruded here and there out of the water, each one slowly dying from the salt.
A few hundred yards in front of him was city hall sitting thirteen feet underwater. The two-story structure sat cracked and battered, sunk and ruined, the sandy bottom now its new foundation.
Just a few days earlier a friend of his, a fellow firefighter, had joked about the media and them warning about storms like the one that had just hit. He joked about the hoax that was making them worse, about the hoax that was making the seas rise. That friend was now dead.
The Keys would never be the same because the Keys could now never be.