At home-there’s a flood in the basement. We’re trying to figure out what to do, and I say I have a pump. Dad says great and I go get it. Trouble pulling out the hoses. Line it up, and we need a longer hose-go get a flat one form the reel and the fire guys are amazed. I go to hook everything up, then walk back to get a cup to prime. Dad asks when I got the pump. I say, “After you died.” Go back and the pump is running and very hot! I get mad at the fire guy who started it. He splutters and I stop it. Set it up and start it, the hoses are tiny but straighten out and get bigger. I move the pump and realize I don’t need the long hose. It starts filling with dirt and I realize that it’s the wrong way. Stop it and switch, only to find that the basement is dry.
Running through an arch. Get to the end and push through the door just as a girl runs past me. Go sit on the side and watch the people go past, and mom says the basement is flooded again.