I watched in awe as the bicycle floated past. I, a humble toaster oven, in the great flood of Tuesday afternoon. A biblical flood, for sure, but really, was there any other sort? I’d gathered crumbs for ages now, decades, and I’d had plenty of time for thoughts. Now, it seemed, something was finally happening. I hadn’t a bit of wood in me for floating, but I rested on a cutting board of substantial girth, bless its soul, and as long as my little rubber feet held fast, I thought that I might make it. The waters rose, clattering open cupboard doors, and plastic bags were washed away. Across from me sat the dining room table, piled high with hard green pears and folded paper. In the table, I knew, was a small wooden drawer, and in that drawer were dozens of fat blue rubber bands, of the sort you find on supermarket broccoli. I thought of these rubber bands, now, as the oily, dirt-colored waters moved flatly along the cupboards. I thought I might find my salvation in them, a sort of metaphorical life-raft, a high mountain peak- but how, I wondered- How?