I stand in my penthouse window and watch storm clouds roll in over the Hudson River. Vessels stream into the city. Night falls.
My reflection seems to stare back at me from the window pane. I appear as little more than an outline. How fitting. I once stood atop my stone castle and watched ships approach my realm. That man had purpose.
How fitting.How long has it been since I watched the ocean and felt anything but numb?
How long has it been since I watched the ocean and felt anything but numb?The opening notes of Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons echo through my apartment. It’s my ring tone for Hunter.
The Four Seasons“Computer, accept call,” I state.
Hunter’s voice sounds just as it did a thousand years ago. The edge of excitement and humor is unmistakable. “Hello, Caelin.”
“How are things
