“Don’t wake the baby! Don’t wake the baby!” squeaked the ‘Judy’. The children laughed at Grandad’s silly high-pitched voice. Digger laughed with them but could not contain himself sitting on the ground – he was on his feet, clapping, too.
... if humanity wipes itself off the face of the Earth, its creative output will survive forever. Servers, hard drives and the libraries of books may degrade, yet a teaspoon of DNA could hold the two zettabytes of data that exists in the world.
There it was, Goldilocks’ Tomb, nestling amongst the last stand of green trees, as if, somehow, that small area had been protected from the ravages of the forest fires, protected by some unknown force. Yet the Tomb itself lay open...
Many years after the water came, our small tribe turned our grey rock into a living, breathing organism. This is that story.
Digger ran out of the gate ahead of them and ran back, shouting happily. “No, Digger, stay here!” called Painter. “Stay here!"
Through the binoculars, Reader could see crabs on the body. Whoever it had been was no longer recognizable, not even to a mother...
He was gazing moodily down at the sea when Gabriel found him.