And it was good, so very good, Bella thought, just to hear them be children again.
THE LOW RUMBLE OF DISTANT THUNDER (2020)
The cloud was like a wave, and yet not like a wave, like a storm, yet not like any storm we had seen (not since the initial Flashback, at least). Nor, in truth, could we be sure it was a cloud; for such was the distance that it remained as elusive and ephemeral—or nearly so—as when Maria had first noticed it: there beyond the cornfields near Sioux City, Nebraska (now an ashen necropolis); there beyond what had been our home before the arrival of the Flashback—but which now stood only as a gravestone and a cenotaph, a monument to the dead.
I looked at Caleb, who was still grinding the binoculars—peering at the racetrack. “Well? What do you see?”
He scanned left to
