It was a foggy December and colder than usual.
An old woman was walking along the concreted shallows of the river. She wore overalls and a breathing mask and had her meshwork hopper slung over her back. She leaned heavily on two poles, one with a grab bar at the end and the other with a net. Every once in a while, she would scoop up a gray slimy mass from the river and put it in her hopper.
Dusk was approaching when the woman stopped breathing. She sat on her stick and removed her mask. She gazed at the misty strata that rose on either side of the river, and…
Source: www.newscientist.com
