Originally Posted by Strangebuddy
...wait, that was the ending to Uzumaki.
So much for Happy Ever After, hey?
I lived on a hill above the Russian River north of San Francisco, at the edge of vineyard valleys and redwood mountains. In the early 90s we had two 100 Year Flood in three months. Our hill became an island. Contact with the outside world? Paddle your kayak or canoe to town.
The few hundred of us on our hill / island became better acquainted. We shared generators to give refrigerators and freezers a couple hours' power boost. We held Freezer-Thaw Parties, potluck feasts rolling between houses. We shared much drink and smoke. We didn't all fuck like weasels but only because floodwaters receded after a few days.
Wasn't a refugee situation for us hill folk but it was for riverfront residents. Thousands were stuck into motels near US-101 after houses and trailers washed away. Some folks started rebuilding after the first flood. They mostly had insurance canceled after the second flood, and many left.
I'm sure a few other authors have sheltered in place or been refugees from more-or-less disasters. Tell those stories with the requisite sex, of course. We can find excuses for orgies, mistaken identities, Scooby-Doo chases, poseurs, chance romances, rowboat fucks, fallen heroes, hormonal imbalances, selkies (were-seals), tentacles of course, and rainbows. Fade to the approaching next storm...