The jet was a solid eighteen-inch column, a pillar of brown mud and yellow gravel and sea water that beat against the steel plates of the hull with a hollow drumming roar. In the few seconds since the explosion the cyclone was already half-filled with a slimy shifting porridge that rushed from wall to wall ...
Throughout their childhood in the dusty cane fields of Saint Michael, Isabel and her older brother Isaias have been inseparable. Life is simple, and for Isabel, happiness is playing by the empty fountain in the village square, or listening to Isaias playing the fiddle. But when Isaias runs away to become a musician...
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