The museum opened its doors

to torrents of water. Staff

can't make it to the doors. Staff

can't shut and haven't been

able to shut in three days. More

than two dozen taxidermy birds

have fled to higher floors. They

didn't care their wings were plastic.

They cared that wings became the air

for three days, before they reached

the top floor. A caveman watches.

A caveman hopes his swimming lessons

from third grade will be of any help. He's

heard rumors that the water reached floor

ten. He's heard rumors of mammoths

sleeping in the belly of a sunken ship.

They've found their bubble of plastic

wings. They've learned to count each

panel of wood at night. Hope they never

find one missing. Mammoths take berry seeds,

chew them like tobacco. Took up smoking

until they ran out of paper for rolls. Mammoths

started peeling splinters from the ship

and pulping them into cigarette rolls.

The mammoths ran out of air before

wood, before water could kill them.