The Ice-Bound Needle
The cold had become a kind of company. I knew I was the last of my kind—the last creature to walk the earth at natural size—and I had accepted it as I accept the Antarctic wind: not with courage, but with the quiet resignation of a man who has run out of alternatives. It happened on the forty-seventh day after the ship grounded itself on the ice. The Arkwright—once a majestic steam-powered破冰船...
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