Cassandra

Cassandra is a city built on the edge of a cliff, overlooking a sea of storm clouds. The inhabitants are weather-watchers, obsessive observers of the horizon who spend their days predicting the next hurricane. They are a cynical people, for they have seen many cities fall into the ocean, and they know that Cassandra will one day follow them. "It is not a question of if," they say, "but when."

The architecture of the city is defensive. The houses are anchored to the rock with heavy iron chains, and the windows are shuttered against the constant gale. The citizens wear heavy coats and carry barometers like religious talismans. They gather in the taverns to drink dark wine and exchange stories of the disasters they have foreseen—the great outage of the northern lighthouse, the collapse of the western bridge. They take a grim pleasure in being right, even when the news is bad.

Yet, despite their pessimism, they do not leave. They are addicted to the edge, to the thrill of seeing the storm before it breaks. They believe that they are the only ones who see the world as it truly is—fragile, temporary, and constantly under siege by the elements. To live in Cassandra is to live in a state of permanent bracing, waiting for the wind that will finally be strong enough to blow the city away.