We heard about the death out in the Dakotas and mourned deeply. In bed I held tight to Garrett, to give and get comfort, skin against skin, under the sheet, under the warm air coming in through the open skylight above our bed. The birth-master nodded. I hunt among the herds of stunted deer that browse the grass between fallen branches of locusts and silver maples.
Everything smelled oppressively oceanic, a constant shifting melange of oil and ozone and seaweed, as if the ocean was ”“Who’s Nero?” Gaunt asked. “Why aren’t I dead?”“I try not to slaughter children if I can help it. “A world of people who understand risk are nearly as easy to lead around by the nose as a world of people who are incapable of understanding risk.
Join the newsletter to receive news, updates, new products and freebies in your inbox.