When the team heard the dam explode, they knew they had limited time to make it to safety.
“We have to jump! Paddling to land is useless in these waters. The surge will throw us right into the rocks!” Tim yelled. He had convinced the wedding party to go whitewater rafting two days before the ceremony. A bonding trip to connect with his future in-laws. His sexually liberated mother-in-law who spent her days behind computer screens writing pornography scripts. His retired, Hall of Fame, hockey player father-in-law whose early onset Parkinson’s reminded him daily of his record-breaking 15 concussions during his career. His self-proclaimed prophetess sister-in-law who had dreamt of missiles falling from the sky the night before.
His fiancé had told him when the terror threat level was high, the last place to be was near the Hoover Dam, but he couldn’t linger on that. He instructed everyone to hold hands. On three, they jumped, just as the giant wave lunged the raft towards the rocks.
word count: 149
This is in response to Mondays Finish the Story: a flash fiction challenge where we provide you with a new photo each week, and the first sentence of a story. Your challenge is to finish the story using 100-150 words, not including the sentence provided.
By the way, my title is a pun on “jumping the broom,” which is typically done at African American wedding ceremonies here in the States.
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