Wow, that moment with Linda was very real, and very touching. That tenous connection over the distance of the street conveyed such a sense of quiet… dignity… somehow, in the face of a catastrophic disaster.

I agree completely with Jonathan. “She waved, a shy, shaky movement of her arm. Never an uncertain woman,” conveys volumes in a sentence and a half. We know her, we know how the narrator thinks of her, we know the stillness of the aftermath and the magnitude of what’s happened.

When people say, “Show, don’t tell”? That’s what they mean.

“I was lucky to have a house that hadn’t been crushed by fallen trees or telephone poles, but I had no power and no answers- I was in the dark.” — This feels a bit explain-y. I’d rather see, through the narrator’s eyes, the surrounding crushed houses, instead of just being told.

That’s pretty nitpicky, though. This scene is as vivid as the opening to a movie, and I wouldn’t stop watching (or reading) for the life of me. Sequel, please!

Human contact, after 9 hours of darkness, is so reassuring. :)