Running from Tsunami

In my memory of that moment, when the longtail boats begin to flip, the passengers—so small in front of the wall of white behind them—falling into the water, in that moment of whirling around, of taking off, that moment of knowing the water would not stop, that it would keep coming, keep surging forward, past the beach into the row of shops and beyond, at that moment, there is no sound, only motion. Even the screams are silent. Everyone turns and runs, rushing away from the beach, away from the water. My body runs, my heart, my mind. I do not pause to consider; I run. I veer off for my journal and fountain pen, my bag, lying on the bench at the coffee bar. But I only veer and grab. I keep moving, away from the water, away from the wave. I don’t pause or slow down. I run through the row of shops: the scuba shop, the tiny grocery, the Thai massage place, souvenir shop. I run until I reach the field of grass and half-built bungalows, and then I stop and turn and where I was is now water and floating chairs and benches. This water will draw back and return, carrying all these benches and chairs and tables and boats, making the second wave even more dangerous. The Thai women are crying, their hands clasped. A younger woman leads an older woman by the arm. The older woman gestures. The first words I hear: “Go to the mountain! The mountain—go!” I turn. I run. I pause to kick off my flip flops, so I can run faster. I run. I run until I can’t see the water, the row of shops, the beach, the sea.

I’m writing this post on December 26, the twenty-first anniversary of the Indian Ocean Earthquake and Tsunami. My memoir about my experience that day and its aftermath will be published on August 11, 2026, by Unsolicited Press. I’ll share more about the book and others’ stories of the tsunami in the new year.

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This coming Tuesday, December 30, Unsolicited Press is hosting a year-end celebration of womxn’s voices. The reading will be live on YouTube from 2 p.m. to 6 p.m. PST. I’ll send out the streaming link on Tuesday morning. You can also find it on www.unsolictedpress.com and their social channels. All thirty-eight authors will read a poem or short excerpt from their book. Please stop in and join us.

My book Gathering the Pieces of Days celebrates the extraordinary in the ordinary moments of our days. You can get your copy from Unsolicited Press, Bookshop.org, or Asterism. And I’ll be reading a poem from the book on Tuesday.

Thank you so much for reading and for your support of this Substack and my writing.