Not far offshore floated an iceberg as big as a ship. I watched it silently pass by. “Ya should’ve been here a month ago. There were almost as many icebergs as fishin’ ships.” I leaped off the log and spun around to find the girl I’d met in the Viking sod house. Only now she was dressed like a normal kid. “That one there’s about half the size of the one that sank the Titanic.” “What?” I blurted. “You’ve heard of the Titanic, right? Sank about six hundred kilometres off Newfoundland’s shore in 1912. The berg that sank her was half the size of the one you’re gawkin’ at.” “Oh.” I slumped down on the log again. “Remember me?” she asked. “Runa, right?” I said. I wasn’t much in the mood for talking at that moment and hoped she’d act like an iceberg and float away.
