It is day 345 of the rain. Most of the earth has flooded, and the remaining land that is not submerged in water is submerged in people. There is no room to even move in the house I am staying in. Supplies are dwindling and the rain is showing no signs of stopping. The tarp I am covered with is old and smells like mildew. Wind beats against the flag of America that we hung up, if only to give us a sense of hope. The mountain we are on is getting filthy, and the water levels keep rising. I don't know what we are going to do. The ceremonial rain dance is being performed right now, and I am working on preparations for the one year anniversary of the flood. I am making the rainbow costumes for everyone. It's just a way to pass the time. The idea was brought up by the person we elected chief, because he could see that our spirit was vanishing. I don't care, as long as I have something to do, I'm happy. There have been a few people to go crazy in our colony, and they had to be drowned. Maybe this eternal storm will end, and maybe it won't. I just keep hoping for a rainbow.
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