| Author: | Wolf Sherman | ISBN: | 9781370913442 |
| Publisher: | Wolf Sherman | Publication: | January 3, 2018 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords Edition | Language: | English |
| Author: | Wolf Sherman |
| ISBN: | 9781370913442 |
| Publisher: | Wolf Sherman |
| Publication: | January 3, 2018 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords Edition |
| Language: | English |
Synopsis
Jormungand, was one of the three children of the god Loki and his wife, the giantess Angrboda. But that, was ancient history. And Myth. Totally unreal, unproven, Myth...
Prologue
Rubbing their arms and hands in turn, hoping to warm up, colourfully dressed, however awkwardly for a summery climate; hurried tourists all bolted from the airport exit towards the idling and waiting tour bus, dragging their wheeled suitcases behind them. None of the tourists were dressed the part. What had been advertised as 'the' summer holiday with a myriad of sun drenched excursions, was nothing like the unexpected biting cold, and an alternating mix of rain and sleet that greeted the holiday makers and blanketed the old city. The ancient landmarks, shopfronts and narrow streets, all alike, were systematically covered in layer upon layer of fine powder-like ice, turning the popular tourist destination into an unusual winter wonderland. Residents of the old city woke up; having done a perplexed double take outside after windows had flung open, and decided to jerk the shutters and windows closed again as the icy breeze washed into their homes. In other parts of the world, what used to be endlessly freezing winters, had for a while stepped back and allowed for blossoms to be announced prematurely, and cargo ships sat waiting at the docks, six feet higher than in the past, hiding the previous lines of saline erosion on barnacle-covered nearby jagged rocks.
Synopsis
Jormungand, was one of the three children of the god Loki and his wife, the giantess Angrboda. But that, was ancient history. And Myth. Totally unreal, unproven, Myth...
Prologue
Rubbing their arms and hands in turn, hoping to warm up, colourfully dressed, however awkwardly for a summery climate; hurried tourists all bolted from the airport exit towards the idling and waiting tour bus, dragging their wheeled suitcases behind them. None of the tourists were dressed the part. What had been advertised as 'the' summer holiday with a myriad of sun drenched excursions, was nothing like the unexpected biting cold, and an alternating mix of rain and sleet that greeted the holiday makers and blanketed the old city. The ancient landmarks, shopfronts and narrow streets, all alike, were systematically covered in layer upon layer of fine powder-like ice, turning the popular tourist destination into an unusual winter wonderland. Residents of the old city woke up; having done a perplexed double take outside after windows had flung open, and decided to jerk the shutters and windows closed again as the icy breeze washed into their homes. In other parts of the world, what used to be endlessly freezing winters, had for a while stepped back and allowed for blossoms to be announced prematurely, and cargo ships sat waiting at the docks, six feet higher than in the past, hiding the previous lines of saline erosion on barnacle-covered nearby jagged rocks.
