The Dike's Inheritance
The water was rising again, and Mira knew, with the certainty of someone who had grown up watching water rise and fall and rise again, that this time it was different. She stood on the edge of what used to be Central Park and looked down into the flood. The water was a muddy brown, churned by currents she could not see but could feel in the soles of her boots—the underground currents, the old...
0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 2 مشاهدة 0 معاينة