I set out across the central courtyard in a nearly perpendicular path from my own door and wound my way through the copse of elm trees that marked the center of the dome. I paused in the middle of the trees and looked up for a moment. The silence was oppressive. In Stratford there were birds flying about and insects buzzing and people and carts and horses. I had forgotten how artificial this place was while I was gone. There was a low drone in the distance that gave away the presence of some massive power generator, and the faint noise of a few voices also wandering about in the dome, but otherwise it was too quiet. The sky was keeping most people indoors today. I didn’t understand why, since the rain would never touch us in here. The gloomy blue-gray color reminded me of my later days in Stratford. Once the fall season arrived, almost every day had been cold and gray during my residency there. Stratford was given to frequent drizzle, and I always found the patter of raindrops on the roof of the house to be calming.
What do You think about The Sphere: A Journey In Time?
