Chapter One: The Mouth
The river was instrumental in shaping the area. When it neared the ocean, it used now one mouth, now another, or merely flooded the landscape.
—W.W. Robinson
Looking back on all that happened—how could I expect readers to believe me when I try to tell them what I’ve seen? How would I even get the story started? I wish I could fire off a “Call me Ishmael” or the like. Maybe a direct address: “Everything I am about to tell you is God’s own truth.” Even so, who will think that I’m not making it up? Am I? —O. Titus Bromide