From his airplane seat, the masses in the waters below look like a long-dead sea monster. Or was it a slumbering underwater behemoth, waiting for certain shifts to occur in Earth’s ancient crust before awakening?
Heavy rain rattled the windows. The large, opalescent spears that resided on the windowsills started to break off and fall perilously towards the marble entryway.
When he finally regained his sight, he could clearly see what shone down from above. Clearly, it was not the sun. Munro had an inkling thought that this might’ve been the case but he didn’t want it to be true. But alas, there shining above young Munro, was the spirit of John Oppenheimer.