Cloudy

New Scientist regularly brings us all manner of wacky science antics, not the least of them its tag cloud.
What is a science fiction sculpture? One pictures Han Solo frozen in that block of whatever-that-was. "Change cosmology!" seems quite the call to arms, and I'm mildly dismayed that I never went on a history of science holiday. This summer, perhaps?

On the other hand, mathematics medicine sounds a little theoretical for my liking, and a psychology religion would surely see the swift demise of our species (just look at Scientology).

My favourite, though, is the biology brain climate. What a torrid, changeable place that must be. Today's forecast for the biology brain climate? Cloudy.

Wish you were here #7

[your name here],

I escaped. Writing this to you from a chocolate box-car. The country outside is all caramel fields and broad, white horizon. Sorry for the small print, but I have a lot to tell you.

I locked the old man and woman in the garden shed. They called feebly for help, but the beautiful-eyed zebra was waiting. We rode for three days and nights, scotching our followers, until we arrived at the train line. Then there was nothing to do but wait.

But soon the searchers found us and there was a terrible battle. I climbed a tree and they set about cutting it down; I leapt through the boughs to another, but they lit a fire at its base. The zebra was wounded as it reared and kicked at them, and it fled. I was alone in the trees and the darkness. And still thinking of you.

The fire crept higher; so did I. I was at the very top of the tree when the flames began to warm my toes.

And then? And then I gave up hope -- of home, of you, even of myself. All was lost. I dropped from the treetop and landed on a bed of pine needles. Then, above the voices of my captors: the bleak scream of the train's horn in the darkness. I thought I was dead -- dreaming -- but I was running, and the zebra was beside me. I caught his mane, clamboured to his back. He broached the train and I leapt into the chocolate-box car. I left the zebra on the edge of the forest some distance from the crowd. I still don't know what they wanted from me. What could I give them?

The zebra reared and kicked and vanished in the dark. Both of us are homeward-bound now.

Very soon.
Alida xo

Wish you were here #6

Dear [your name here],

I'm sorry I haven't written, but I've had nothing to report. Little changes in the village. I haven't seen the zebra again, and even though the forest plants are starting to come into flower now, nothing feels like home.

I try to imagine how things are, and what might be happening with you. I think of [your partner's name]'s giggling laughter and hope your birthday was fun. I'm so sorry I couldn't be with you, but I didn't forget you. How I wished I was there. Soon, I hope to be. Though I don't see how.

Yours,
Alida xo

Wish you were here #5

[your name here], I saw the zebra again!

This time, I was digging potatoes in a small garden the villagers have cleared in the forest when I heard the noise. The other ladies were on the far side of the garden, and there in the forest not three metres away was the zebra, watching me. It took a step closer; it did too. Then it turned and looked over its shoulder, as if waiting for me. I dropped my hoe. But the ladies called to me at that moment, and the zebra was lost among the red-tipped boughs of the forest.

I suppose these little excitements are nothing compared to the goings on at home. I wonder what you're doing, and how you are. I wonder it often.

Alida x

Wish you were here #6

Wish you were here #4

Dear [your name here],

Are you well? I hope so. Today I went fishing with the old man at the river. He set me up and left me there to go hunting. They eat the orange squirrels that skitter around the forest here. I'd just caught and killed a fish when there was a noise in the leaves on the far river bank. It was a zebra with a brushy mane, but it had gentle eyes like a horse. It stood watching me, and I it, until the old man reappeared not with squirrel but with a purple bird he'd killed with his poison darts. Then the zebra was gone -- there was nothing among the trees.

I long for news of you and wish I had a return address for this place. I think the old couple know; they throw their mail on the fire, often unopened, and there is no chance for me to search the place. No one visits or leaves the village, but I long to see you again. I long for home.

As always,
Alida xo

Wish you were here #5

Wish you were here #3

Dear [your name here],

I don't know if you're getting these postcards. I know I sound paranoid, but the people in this village sort of won't let me leave. I think the old couple stole my guide book. There are no phones and any time I try to ask about a bus or moving on, people shrug or get distracted or mime elaborate excuses. The river shown overleaf runs through this town. It really is as pretty as the picture. This is the only postcard they sell in the shop, and they supposedly post the mail for everyone here. I hope this reaches you. Some days the forest seems soft and silent, but other times the trees seem to be closing in. Particularly at night.

I don't want you to worry about me, though. I'm fine, really, and I hope you are too. How's [your partner's name here] going? I trust you're both well.

I'll write when I can.
Alida x

Wish you were here #4

Wish you were here #2

Dear [your name here],

The gentleman pictured overleaf looks a lot like the man I asked for directions on a deserted road today. I'd left town early and became lost; I didn't speak his language but, with gestures and pointing and drawings in the dust, he gave me directions. At dusk I came to a small village in a forest. I don't think they get many visitors here: everyone turned to look at me in the square. An old lady took me to her house, where I'm staying the night with her and her husband. They're watching me write this card to you. I don't know what the name of the town is, because no one speaks English. I hope to be back on course tomorrow.

I hope you're well and getting some sunshine.

Missing you,
Alida

Wish you were here #3