TURKEY: 16 Miles Under

The night was bitter cold. Turks had turned in. Only a few lovers and elderly insomniacs were awake to hear the strange restlessness of animals. Dogs sat up and howled, cattle pawed in their stalls, fowls flapped their wings.

Turks who slept began to dream. Those who were awake suddenly felt vague fears.

The nerves of every living thing in Anatolia vibrated like taut catgut to the first, subaudible, microseismic music of an impending earthquake. The slow vibration became a horrible hum, and grew, like the sound of approaching bombers. Then the shock hit.

Man knows no terror like that which an earthquake...

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