Once at the Niagara Falls I per chanced upon a silver-swan-schooner. A rare species of anti-flight bird. It swam through the mist of water above the tumultuous surface and ascended the cascading flood with mirror like tranquility before lounging at the falls’ brink, cleaning its feathers with its beak.
Extract from Shock Fiction Tales: Odes to Death, Decay, Eternal Conflict and the Exaltation of the Quest for the Dream, American or Otherwise by Charles Lidgard © 2004
