Domesticity, plasticity

In the understanding that parallels deciphering my grip on reality, I could not sleep, wrapped in a blanket in the sunroom, the ambient temperature in the teens, the stars brightly twinkling, the Big Dipper teasing me through the leafless branches of a hickory tree.

Two thoughts tickled my curiosity:

  1. Why I fell in love with Abi and desire so much to please her with my increased dancing skills, and
  2. Wrapping my thoughts around Stephen Hawking’s new revelation about his old theory of black holes.

A short story waits to be written, weaving the continuing storylines of Guin, Bai and the Frenchman, as well as Cajessi, elaborating on the chapter excerpt below (written on 12th Oct 2013):

Unfortunately, Bai was allergic to a few of the chemicals and, while training a farmer who’d just returned from the fields, gotten something in her eye, probably when she rubbed her face on his sleeve during a double underarm turn.

Her next stop was a courtesy call and not a dance lesson.

Another dance instructor, Cajessi, landed on the planet two days ago and needed to acclimate a few days more before she hosted a two-day workshop.

Cajessi, too, had avoided body upgrades until she had reached her 80s.  Although she still looked elderly, her body was limber and her eyes sparkled.  She was famous for her favourite socks, a bright, neon green, and sold a signature line of them wherever she taught workshops.

Bai’s planet hopper landed next to Cajessi’s habitation module, sending up six puffs of dirt from the hopper’s footpads.

Time to read some of Hawking’s recorded thoughts…and wonder about jelly doughnuts on Mars…

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