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403 pages, Paperback
First published September 8, 2022
Imagine a place you know intimately. A home, beloved, each brick and pane and furnishing and dirt or grease mark on the wall, every inch of the architecture infused with memory. Imagine one day you return and find nothing remains but the foundations. The ceiling is gone, the windows have vanished. What was a house is hollow. Even the air feels different. It is not a haunting, there are no ghosts here; the memories have been wiped. There is only absence. You stand, turning on the spot, looking about you. After a while, the doubt creeps in. You begin to disbelieve that this is the place you knew. That you were ever here at all. Such is the transformation, you cannot truly take it in. There must be some mistake.
Gone were the vivid reds and oranges, the yellows and pinks, the umbers and siennas, the gentle sepias, all the infinite hues of coral that make a healthy reef. These colonies were long past bleaching; algae had grown over their bodies, a relentless carpet masking the great mazes of brain corals, the delicacy of fans, smothering anything that might have survived the broiling. Limbs of staghorn stuck up in bleak, endless forests. Crown-of-thorns starfish had moved in, feasting on the weakened survivors. Many of the corals had already begun to disintegrate. When I touched them, their flesh came apart in ragged clumps that dissolved between my fingers. Entire colonies were reduced to rubble.
Floating over the destruction, my first thought was of ossuaries, but those were places of reverence. This scene looked like a war zone.