All week I have been hearing how powerful Hurricane Irene would be, but this morning brought a strange disappointment with how far away the real fury of the storm seemed to be. But as i jogged down gusty Davidson Avenue, I suddenly discovered the street was quickly becoming part of the river. Dimitri and Maria, the owners of that white roof, were disappointed in an entirely different way than my abstract emotion of the morning. Irene was all too close to home for them, she forced her way in, like an unwelcome intruder.
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