Friday 27 January 2012

The Terminator - quick story

Hello. I've been feeling really blocked up this week (mentally - I'm not constipated, thank you). The stress of trying to create poetry for a marked assignment has been driving me to distraction, and as a result my mind has closed itself off to the possibility of stringing words together into a coherent sentence. So today I tried to write a really quick story as my mental laxative, using a famous film title as my inspiration. This is what was produced whilst I was waiting for the cottage pie to cook. I hope you enjoy it x

The Terminator
Sophie peered through the telescope at the Terminator, the delineating boundary separating darkness and light on the surface of the moon.  She looked specifically at the newly discovered crater that she would request be named ‘JaLoftus’ in Jamie’s honour. The slither of impenetrable blackness against the mottled black of the surrounding rocks had since been observed by only a handful of people with the most powerful of specialist telescopes. Yet Sophie had made the discovery using a fairly modest 30 year old reflecting telescope, enhanced with a new neutral density filter and Sophie’s almost supernatural ability to spot miniscule differences in contrast. Her photographic memory ensured that she was always alert to any new shapes or contrasts in the moon’s surface.
            Sophie knew that her discovery, with the associated connotations regarding the rate of rotation of the moon, would be enough to transform Jamie’s doctoral thesis from a standard pass to a ground-breaking document that would win him the respect of his peers and probably the reputation as a leading selenographer. And if his reputation led to a position of importance somewhere else in the world she would go with him gladly.
            ‘Hey, Sophie. Who’s that postcard from on your desk?’ Stevie, Sophie’s assistant in the astronomy lab, yanked off his ipod and flung it onto his cluttered workstation along with his tatty rucksack and leather bikers’ jacket.
            ‘Hi Stevie. I dunno. Tim from downstairs brought it up earlier; I’ll read it later. Look, check this out …’ Sophie removed her eye from the lens and gestured for Stevie to take a look. ‘It’s moved again. The Terminator. Galileo suggested this could happen four hundred years ago, but nobody listened. When those twits at NASA read Jamie’s thesis they’ll be eating their words …’
            Stevie gazed at Sophie with his head tilted to the left. Letting his breath go he moved across to the telescope and looked through the eyepiece, right eye squinted tightly closed. He held the telescope with the lightest of touches, wary of making the tiniest adjustment to the highly calibrated piece of equipment.
            ‘Sophie what the hell am I looking at? It’s the same as yesterday, as last week …’
            ‘No, dummy, look! The left edge of the crater, towards the top. Can you see a section slightly higher than the rest? That’s a new feature. Or new to us, anyway. It isn’t catalogued; you can check. That means that the light coming from the Earth is hitting the moon at new angles, which means …’
            ‘Yeah, yeah, Soph. I know what it means. I just don’t see it.’
            Sophie was exasperated that Stevie and her other colleagues , who spent as much time as she did staring at the moon, always struggled to make out the features she could detect so easily. They had enough respect for her work and her reputation not to doubt her, but in this instance Stevie was obviously struggling to combat his incredulity. After all, she would doubt the veracity of this astonishing find if she couldn’t see it so clearly with her own eyes. She adjusted the hair band that kept her thick auburn hair from falling into her eyes and puffed out her cheeks.
            The only person with whom she could really share the almost erotic excitement of each tiny advance in understanding the moon was Jamie. He loved to be near her at the facility; since he had appeared as a volunteer from Manchester University eight months ago they had spent almost every evening together, beneath the moon. At times when the moon was waning they would study the newest photographs from the Southern Hemisphere and discuss possible angles for Jamie’s thesis. She was looking forward to seeing him again after his well-earned rest; he was like the waxing to her waning and he made her feel whole. Her friends would laugh, but they had never experienced the romance of gazing together at that distant rock, breathing in each other’s air. His hand finding her back, creating craters in her skin at that serene moment was about as erotic an experience as you could have. Almost matched by the frenzied fucking on all fours that usually followed on that rough industrial carpet after the others had left for home.
            The bonus of working as an astronomer was that most of her work was done at night. So Jamie had fallen for her under the gentle moonlight, away from the mundane details of daylight living. They were akin to vampires or werewolves, adoring each other during the dark hours, their coupledom restricted to the unreal existence they led. The time would come for them to move forwards into the light, but for now she was happy. Ecstatic.
            Stevie pointed to Sophie’s moon-rock pendant. ‘So when will you be getting this diamond, then? And the big proposal …?’
            ‘It might not be a diamond,’ Sophie giggled. ‘I said he’d promised a sparkling rock next time. You drew your own conclusions.’
            ‘Where is he anyway?’
            ‘He’s gone to see his parents. They wanted to celebrate him completing his thesis.’
            ‘The one that you mainly wrote, you mean?’
            Sophie turned to look sharply at Stevie, but he met her gaze with a smirk. She looked away and insisted ‘Stevie you know that’s not it. I just helped. So would you, if your special someone needed it.’
            Stevie scratched his round belly through his ‘Iron Maiden Somewhere on tour ‘86’ T-shirt.
            ‘If Megan Fox asked me to discover a new lunar crater, give her credit for its discovery then write her doctoral thesis in return for a few midnight shags and a moon-rock necklace then I’d oblige her, sure.’
            A pink hue spread across Sophie’s cheeks, but her rebuttal stuck in her throat as she caught sight of his cheeky grin.
            ‘Come on, Sophie. It’s getting cloudy. Let’s go to the pub. First round’s on me.’
            The two friends picked up their coats. In their hurry they forgot all about the postcard on Sophie’s desk. On one side was a panorama of a beach, wooden huts dipping their stilts into the perfect turquoise sea. The message on the reverse read:
            Dear Sophie, thanks for all the fun and your help with my studies. You really are a special girl. I’ve got an interview for an associate lecture post at Cambridge, leading to a tenured Professor post, if I’m lucky. And next month I’ve been asked to do a TV interview (on ScienceWatch!!!) to talk about the moving Terminator. And you made it all possible. Take care of yourself and see you around, maybe. All our love, Jamie, Kate (and bump!) x


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