This is a creative writing piece.

The young boy awoke, and sat up in his small bed of straw. Was it really going to happen today like that old man said? He stood up and hobbled to the doorway of his family's clay house, and looked up. He's probably right, thought the boy. The sky had been dark for almost a week now. It started off timid, just a white coat over the earth. But it was slowly growing darker; and …

…the party they had last night to get up. He panicked again and ran out side and yelled for someone to come, but the sound of the wave was too loud. A couple of elderly folk came out from the noise, and a small child too. The boy looked around and saw them, and stopped screaming. He looked at the wave, and just stood there, staring at the wave. That guy was right, he thought.