Svea Research Station, April 2177
MEGHAN MURPHY
Sunglasses, lawn chairs, woolen parkas, and his favorite book. Erik watched Astrid build a snow-castle in the almost balmy Antarctic Polar Desert.
The sun was large in the sky. Too large. All projections said they’d be safe here… for now. The equator; uninhabitable. Antarctica; the new vacation destination. He sipped his tea and reclined his head, finger bookmark in place.
“Look! You can read it now!” Astrid’s voice drew his eyes to the large stone with ancient carving in the ice-melt. “What’s it say, Dad?”
Erik sighed, reopening his book, licking his thumb to turn the page. “Ragnarok, sweetie.”
—Meghan Murphy