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There's many a man who never tells his adventures, for he can't hope to be believed ― Arthur Conan Doyle, The Lost World.
In a moment of feeling his mortality, he wondered whether one day someone would be sitting right here with their feet on his lifetime’s collection of papers, pictures, and old track and field trophies.
Due to the effects of solar radiation, the small body emitted the usual coma and icy tail, giving it the distinctive comet streak. When a comet finally appears to the naked eye, it is called an apparition.
The Primordia Earthly cycle had it passing closest to South America, directly over a vast tabletop mountain in Venezuela. It was only observable for a few days, but in that time, strange distortions occurred on the mountaintop – things became rearranged, reordered, pathways created and doorways opened. In 48 hours, Primordia’s first magnetic wave effects would be felt. And in Eastern Venezuela, the season was once again at its wettest.
Mateo was fresh from university and armed with a degree in meteorological and climate sciences, and he’d never seen anything like what he was looking at; he didn’t even know of a precedent for it in any textbook. There looked to be a small developing hurricane, but coming out of nowhere. It was tiny and centralized. But strangely, staying centralized.
“Here, see, every 10 years, like clockwork, there is a unique phenomenon that happens in these parts. Only during the wettest of wet seasons.” He shrugged. “The conditions manifest over a single area, only remain for a few days, and then just as abruptly, dissipate and then vanish.” He shrugged. “Theories are that it is caused by an upwelling of thermal activity in the area that alters ground heat, and then the associated humidity and air density.”
“And that’s why they call us the bureau of climate guessology – we only know what’s happening some of the time.”
