Day 1,773

All you can hear nowadays are the fire engines racing back and forth all across the city, pumping water from flooded streets into the swollen river that forces itself back through the sewer drains and out into the streets again. They are fighting a losing battle but nonetheless they are fighting.

I have never fought back against the water. I chose a ground floor apartment near the old docks lower down on the river. The landlord is of a similar sort to me - born to a family that barely noticed them and let the city raise them instead, let the water sing them to sleep at night.

I like the landlord, he lets me explore the basement when it floods to see if the water will bring us anything of interest. It used to bring us old watches, phones and knives but now it just talks instead. It tells us that all the greater treasures are in the river itself, so far beneath the city that you float downwards, suspended in inky nothingness.

The landlord went down last month, leaving behind an empty, waterlogged apartment and a single letter inviting me to join him. Since he left the whole block has gradually been falling into the river so even if I didn't actively choose to go, I might have woken up drowning anyway.

I take one last breath and sink deeper than the city that raised me.