The Last Light Beneath the Waves
I. The brass lens was cold against my cheek. Through it, the world above was a circle of pale gold, trembling like a coin held to candlelight. I could see nothing but the gold — no grass, no sky, no face — but I closed my eyes and imagined it all. I imagined sunlight on my hands. I imagined the smell of damp earth after rain. I imagined Arthur's voice, warm and close, reading to me from the...
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