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Copyright © 1998 Maria Contos.
All rights reserved and reproduction without written permission expressly prohibited.
The Seashell
"Do you see those lights, far away, how they play on the shadowy face of the city?
That land rose up from the sea many years ago in an extraordinary way. But my
eyes have become dim with the passing of the years and that makes it difficult
for me to reveal the fullness of this story." She spread her hand towards me.
"Come," she said. "Sit with me next to the fire."
Sometimes her glimpses were kind. This soothes my soul, bringing the memories back to life.
The reflection of the flames on her skin made it seem she was also burning. I
had known her since I was born, but still there was a puzzle in her eyes, a secret I could not grasp.
She smiled. "Many years have passed since I first met you, Missan," she said,
"and still I am waiting..."
"Waiting for what, Grandma?"
"Let us better talk about this city, before it vanishes again, under
the waves from whence it came."
[End of this extract. The full story was published in Gravity's Angels]
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