Hurricane Isaac Landfall
Residents of Grand Isle, Louisiana, brace for Hurricane Isaac's landfall as the storm's outer bands unleash relentless wind and rain. Streets flood, debris scatters, and a small cluster of wooden home
Setting
A beachfront area on Grand Isle, Louisiana, with a small cluster of wooden houses and a battered pier extending into the Gulf of Mexico. The streets are already flooding, and debris is scattered everywhere.
Characters
Fisherman
primary
A rugged, middle-aged man with sun-weathered skin, deep creases around his eyes from years of squinting against the sun and wind. His muscular build speaks of a lifetime hauling nets and battling the sea. Short, salt-and-pepper hair clings damply to his scalp in the rain, and his hands are calloused and strong.
Neighbor
primary
A middle-aged man with a weathered face, short graying hair, and a strong, wiry build from years of coastal living. His deep-set, hazel eyes show both concern and determination, with crow's feet from squinting against sun and wind. He moves with the practiced urgency of someone who's weathered storms before.
Elderly Woman
secondary
A frail woman in her late 70s with thin, silver hair whipping loose from a hurried bun. Her deeply lined face shows decades of coastal living, with sun-weathered skin and faded blue eyes squinting against the wind. She moves with the careful stiffness of arthritis, slightly hunched at the shoulders.
Teenager
secondary
A lean, wiry teen around 15-16 years old with sun-bleached brown hair sticking to his forehead from the rain. His tanned skin is slick with seawater and sweat, and his arms show the beginnings of muscle built from manual labor.
Emergency Worker
background
A rugged man in his late 30s with a sturdy build, weathered skin from years of outdoor work, and a short-cropped beard. His face is streaked with rain and sweat, and his eyes are narrowed against the wind. He wears a reflective vest over his uniform, and his boots are caked with mud.
Dialog
Fisherman
Cher, rope ain’t holdin’—gimme that line from the dock!
Neighbor
Hell, boat’s draft’s too shallow—surge’ll take her if we don’t lash her stern first!
Fisherman
She’s all I got—Ain’t leavin’ her to Isaac’s teeth!
Neighbor
Water’s risin’ faster’n a drunk at Mardi Gras—ten minutes, *max*, cher!
Fisherman
Then tie it off double—like we done in ’05!