Аннотация
Bruce Sterling
Islands in the Net
1
The sea lay in simmering quiet, a slate-green gumbo seasoned with warm mud. Shrimp boats trawled the horizon.
Pilings rose in clusters, like blackened fingers, yards out in the gentle surf. Once, Galveston beach homes had crouched on those tar-stained stilts. Now barnacles clustered there, gulls wheeled and screeched. It was a great breeder of hurricanes, this quiet Gulf of Mexico .
Laura read her time and distance with a quick downward glance. Green indicators blinked on the toes. of her shoes, flickering with each stride, counting mileage. Laura picked up the pace. Morning shadows strobed across her as she ran.
She passed the last of the pilings and spotted her home, far down the beach. She grinned as fatigue evaporated in a flare. of energy.
Everything seemed worth it. When the second wind took her, she felt that she could run forever, a promise of inde- structible confidence bubbling up from the marrow...
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