Water began to flood the room. ‘I told you it was a bad idea. The sea eats people.’
Trees are a way Nature found to connect the ground with the skies. That’s also what we are, the Itumian, we’re a bridge, a connection; we are in-between.
But the undertow was working against him. Matthew could feel it now, streaming out to open sea around and beneath him. Swimming against it was like trying to swim up-river. For every foot he pulled ahead, the water carried him back another two. The shore hovered like a mirage ahead of him, almost drowned out in all the lapping water.
He knew only what he had been told, that vicious Godless races peopled the New World and none could be trusted.
I rub my eyes constantly until they become clear: ‘Habitation Project for The People Displaced by Climatic Contingencies: Site C’. The water now tastes salty.
You couldn’t let your light get too bright lest you lost your footing. A few patches now and then kept your light in check, and kept you grounded.