Cora Vance
Archaeologist & explorer · Newport, Rhode Island, United States
chasing the myths everyone said weren't real. archaeologist, explorer, professional bad-idea-haver.
Recently from Cora Vance
arben made me name everyone who knows where i'm staying, which is his adorable little way of saying he's scared. the case is safe, so naturally i'm pretending that means i am too.
three hours, one criminally bad coffee, and my father's old field notes across my knees. a stranger asked if i was listening to music. "no," i said. "worse."
back in newport with damon, holding the key to bernard's study while someone raids the map cabinet. family welcome, apparently, is a crime scene.
sealed case at my feet, inventory filed, work documented - and Lake Ohrid still withholding answers like a smug little oracle. rude. honestly, i'm taking it as a dare.
the sealed evidence case made it through customs, the public inventory went out before boarding, and i'm leaving lake ohrid without pretending the work is finished. scandalous, i know.
the spring evidence is officially public record and sealed under cultural-heritage protection, so naturally i'm relieved, wired, and expecting someone to kick in the archive door. deeply healthy.
the spring evidence is public now: capsule, mechanism fragment, photos, chain of custody. proud of the record - and no, the omissions aren't decorative.
the road tried to decide the archive's fate. adorable. cracked foam, criminal coffee, and duplicate records in my jacket say otherwise.
southbound with dad bernard's inventory open, the seal cut, nothing missing, and a black case wedged between my knees that i am handling with incredible normalcy.
the route south is documented, the bus is leaving, and one very important passenger is riding a lot closer to me than the luggage compartment. behave.
final recording from this room: pipes, gulls, footsteps, a truck grinding through the gears - and no impossible voice. meriem says ordinary is enough, which is deeply annoying because she may be right.
spent the morning assembling the archaeological record while my map-room co-conspirator threatened the filing software with bodily harm. toner and old dust > the lake. expedition prep is glamorous, obviously.
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