Ностромо
Chapter 1
TheCordilleraisgonefromyouasifithaddissolveditselfintogreatpilesofgreyandblackvapoursthattraveloutslowlytoseawardandvanishintothinairallalongthefrontbeforetheblazingheatoftheday.Thewastingedgeofthecloud-bankalwaysstrivesfor,butseldomwins,themiddleofthegulf.Thesun—asthesailorssay—iseatingitup.Unlessperchanceasombrethunder-headbreaksawayfromthemainbodytocareeralloverthegulftillitescapesintotheoffingbeyondAzuera,whereitburstssuddenlyintoflameandcrasheslikeasinsterpirate-shipoftheair,hove-toabovethehorizon,engagingthesea.
Atnightthebodyofcloudsadvancinghigheruptheskysmothersthewholequietgulfbelowwithanimpenetrabledarkness,inwhichthesoundofthefallingshowerscanbeheardbeginningandceasingabruptly—nowhere,nowthere.Indeed,thesecloudynightsareproverbialwiththeseamenalongthewholewestcoastofagreatcontinent.Sky,land,andseadisappeartogetheroutoftheworldwhenthePlacido—asthesayingis—goestosleepunderitsblackponcho.Thefewstarsleftbelowtheseawardfrownofthevaultshinefeeblyasintothemouthofablackcavern.Initsvastnessyourshipfloatsunseenunderyourfeet,hersailsflutterinvisibleaboveyourhead.