"Reed, Robert - OurPrayers" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reed Robert)

The truly bad news has moved downstream, taking most of the press with it.
September begins with a week of uninterrupted sunshine. The lower Mississippi
valley is submerged, but by October we've seen the last of our dirty waters roll
off our streets and through the empty reservoir. We aren't dry, but the concept
of dry ground can at least be imagined now. We can't hope for anything more.

Of course the murders were just murders, I tell myself.

Ugly but simple in their intent.

And who knows why people would dynamite radar installations? It has nothing to
do with me.

And yet.

I find myself thinking about the people in my shack and how they must have
spoken to friends and strangers, telling them of my idea. Ideas are like
butterfly wings. Small beginnings; catastrophic results. An idea like mine could
flow through a population, seeking out the people most likely to believe in it.
To act on it. To do what feels like the logical best course.

Make the world forget us.

Which it has, mostly.

A late-season hurricane strengthens, then takes aim at the Gulf Coast, flooding
the remnants of New Orleans and shifting the Mississippi to a new channel in
western Louisiana.

Eighty-three acts of terrorism against reporters and weatherpeople may or may
not be linked with violence during last summer's floods.

"Frustrations are mounting," one CNN warrior reports to the world.

Armed guards standing around him.

What happens if the world realizes its power? I ask myself. Will humanity
shatter into opposing camps? Or seek revenge on its enemies? Or perhaps, just
perhaps, create an Eden, tepid and green?

I can remember when weather was a god unto itself.

Obeying no one.