![]() On his bike ride to his shift, Duncan noticed the men on the street. First the great shock and then the scouring. It was overdue, and it would happen while everybody was asleep. ![]() It would come at night, Duncan was sure of it. Into the breach the liquid would flood: a tsunami, smothering the shaken city with saltwater. The entire Northwest would be forced open like a zipper that had gotten stuck. A greater shaking than any living American had ever felt would make all of the buildings tumble. How high, he wondered, would the canal crest? Would it tickle the underbelly of the bridge, or would it swallow the roadway whole, lapping up cars and trucks as the water opened? Would it advance, black and hungry, on the streets of the neighborhood, sweeping along with it everything it could carry? By then much of the neighborhood would be rubble anyway. ![]() And one, he felt, would be more than enough.ĭuncan looked out of the window of his studio apartment at the ship channel. Surely one could be persuaded to give him what he wanted. This concession came as a great relief, as if a brake that had been held inside of him had eased, and a wheel allowed to spin naturally. He just acknowledged a tidal pull that had been tugging at his feet for months. No man in particular - he didn’t have one in mind, or even a sort of man he was looking for, or even a strategy to find one. It was after he’d finished the long article on the subduction zone earthquake that Duncan decided he’d like to have sex with another man.
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