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1-49 · 2 months

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송은석 : Tell the cameraman there’s no good side, they’re both attractive.

❝ your ace, your king, your double diamond. your jack of all trades, your 100 and one shades.

ᴘᴀʀɪɴɢ: actor! song eunseok × actress f!reader.

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: romance. on set / gambling undertones as far as the film storyline goes. w.c 5k

two actors fatally ‘meet’ at a ‘casino.’ with the narrative centering round the ‘value of the moment,’ as the story advances, the ‘love on set’ becomes more evident thru the cameras. as the director realizes this early on, all of his retakes serve as both the actors’ main obstacle and unifying force in achieving their individual & character’s goals.

ᴛᴀɢꜱ: slight mutual pinning (?) both are kinda confused; mixed signals, ofc flirting. makeout :) i had MMA Eunseok on mind while writing this... the gloves and all.

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: why i feel like everyones on sum Eunseok current rn? as if we re collectively riding that wave? am i not right? am i not!? it’s like homeboy was only getting comfortable up until now. or elsee y are his contents as of lately sooo attacking? idk why, but i feel like this type of situation goes so well w him?

this goes back and forth between the film’s plot and the real* on set setting. hope it’s not confusing

It feels like you’re wearing your seductive velvet dress just to let him down one more time. The never-ending takes of filming this movie and wearing the same clothes don’t help Eunseok at all; in fact, your attire has made him even more confused and hell crazed.

Drama, slash thriller, slash…

“Romance is for the weak,”

reads one of the script’s lines. Of course, there is nothing romantic about the way he has to portray the charismatic rival who must rob the same kingpin as you. You both need to be like loaded guns to figure out who will outsmart who. Without a doubt, this isn’t a game for the weak of heart.

Side from the fact that long shoots and endless days blur together, his constant presence both on and off set also distorts your perception and wounds your judgment. Though you know for a fact that it’s a waste of your time to catch vibes.

As you’re getting started & Eunseok is an A-list hitter, it is also completely out of the question. Moreover, even now, you find it surprising how you were cast for this role, but that was exactly what spurred you on to continue & demonstrate your abilities.

Though the weeks of filming went smoothly, as you 2 approach ‘a’ scene, tension is mounting.

But, now that you’re here, you’re reshooting and pacing around the same set of scenes, over and over. There is a clear build-up in tension and skin ship as the film goes. The way his hands would sometimes tighten around your waist, it seems like an old game. Practically, it’s the same same daily.

It’s as if you have been thrown into a loop for a week. Monday through Saturday, which seems excessively intense because you have to look into his big eyes and act unaffected, just like your character. To pretend that you’re razor-sharp when you two touch and to act as though nothing is happening.

The latest take you took was three hours ago, before your lunch. Venue: the casino.

The casino set is unique in that it has distinct widths and depths, & it’s a character unto itself.

You’re shooting at a real place—a candid gambling place with walls painted in every hue imaginable, which is the main ‘bait’ factor. Nevertheless, the place’s real undercurrent is that it has the power to literally tear apart a person. Here, time and space are merely ideas, and much like love, everyone in the plot keeps playing in the hopes of hitting a jackpot.

On the periphery are the people who have come here to escape reality, vibrant lights, music, drinks, and all things magnetic.

However, the more people indulge in these casino games, the more they immerse themselves in sin. The games have a concentric hierarchy, and the degree of wickedness increases gradually until it reaches the heart of the casino, where the money is kept in bondage and bound with a bloody ribbon.

In essence, the characters you and Eunseok play dance and mingle in the depths of hell.

As you both keep colliding in the games you play, what begins as an individual hunt becomes more focused. It’s the way that your objective in this round is to win jointly by lying. Still, at some point in the round, Eunseok’s character betrays you, but that is currently irrelevant, as you’re currently sitting on his lap.

And doing so, you scan the players in front of you. There are eight of them in total, some of whom have girls sitting on their laps as well. Some kiss, some clink their glasses, and some flirt with the person across. A ton of chips, cards, and cash are spread out across the poker table.

Your character remains silent, just like Eunseok’s does. Distraction is something that neither of you wants. However, the fact that you’re sitting on his lap makes this already a deranged situation.

Players sling remarks about your character around the table in an attempt to break Eunseok’s character’s nerve.

“When will it be our turn to have our round with her, at last, exactly when?” Gesturing you both, one of the group members says, perched on the edge of the poker table. “Hm? We may need to take some action because you don’t really share your food here. We may need to bring bad luck to attract her.” The actor laughs narratively, but there is seriousness in the corners of his bright eyes that makes it seem like he is really after you, and there is nothing Eunseok can do about that. It is an amazing acting delivery from him.

And while his remarks are only meant to irritate Eunseok’s character, why does it feel like they also irritate the real Eunseok? Because his leg begins to twitch uncontrollably under you.

In order to stop letting his emotions show and to keep his mind to the job in hand, he needs to snap back into character quickly. He remains to cage you in a respectful manner, though, as his arms aren’t in contact with you because they’re both on the table.

So you have no choice but to put up with the sensation of his breath tickling the back of your neck, and the heat that seeps from his thighs and settles into you.

You feel imprisoned in his cage... On this set.

And, you start to appreciate the little things, like the thicker material covering your flesh, since it seems like your skin is getting uncomfortably slippery under your dress.

Your back is glued to his chest, and his calm demeanor calms you down from the words and deeds of everyone around you—including the real extras from the close-up tables that swarm the set, adding realism to the scene and heightening the atmosphere.

You feel him place his hand on your thigh, something he has never done in previous takes of the scene, but he immediately lifts it. And as he moves his hand, the smooth surface of your dress wrinkles at the drag, making your heart want to leap out of your rib cage.

You lean forward until your elbows rest on the table in an attempt to escape the heat transfer that is becoming too strong between your bodies. More than that, there seems to be an off-energy between you two today that you can’t quite put your finger on. In either case, you’re unable to escape as his hand wraps around your waist and draws you back toward him. Simultaneously, it feels like his cold breath is making love to your throat as it swoops around your neck.

And so, you stay like this… in his arm... until he decides it’s enough, but Eunseok isn’t one to give up easily, so things continue this way. You simply can’t protest because that would ruin the scene.

However, even after going over the same scene several times, it didn’t stick, so the director agreed to let you unwind for the next few hours so that you could focus on the following scene.

And as absurd as it sounds, you might need to expend all of your energy on the next scene. You’ve become tired not just from your long work hours and endlessly repeated dialog lines, but also from being in too much close contact with him. And not to mention that the scene that follows is—

A loud “Action!” comes from somewhere across the room, past the cameras. You’re even deprived of the opportunity to summon all your bravery and take a deep breath. There is nothing you can do about the scene that is already in motion except follow your sync with Eunseok wherever it leads.

This time, the location is a 2nd floor room inside the casino with a glassed view of the floor below where all the ‘magic’ happens. In technical terms, the space you’re in right now is referred to as a ‘control room.’

Control…..

With just the two yellow-toned lamps—one in the corner and one on the metal desk—the room is completely soundproof and somewhat dim. Additionally, the window glass also only sees out but not in, which promises that all intimacy will be trapped inside and not let out.

…. If only you were allowed the right amount of privacy,

but this is a film set, so naturally there are people inside who practically monitor every move you and Eunseok make in great detail.

They… Control…..

His suit jacket, which he had on earlier in the casino, is now draped across the brown leather couch, giving you more intimate time together and expanding his range of motion. And it’s all done purposefully. Everything is a part of the plan, as he’s deliciously in tune with your dress, too.

His glistening velvet suit with diamond motifs fits the ‘rival notion,’ making him an ideal opponent—a fierce equal match for you. This is also reflected in the movie’s concept, which is to give the impression that this is a ‘pair game’ in which both of you are lying in order to get to the big ‘price.’

And all it takes to get there is for you to hurt each other in the process. There are jokes exchanged, teasing remarks, some lighter, some harsher, some even more vulgar, and swear words are thrown around, but neither of your characters ever lets up their confident façade. For they would be falling behind and losing the game if that were to occur.

As you gaze out the window, Eunseok is leisurely leaning against the desk, moving a silver-foil Ace of Hearts card between his black leather-gloved fingers and watching you.

The games themselves give an adrenaline rush, and the lavish, spacious hall downstairs draws in gamblers, but the whole point of the script for him is that you’re a thrill sight and his object of desire. For someone made of steel, your whole sense of appeal lies in the fact that you steal his breath.

The sleek black strapless velvet dress you’re wearing seems to be romanticized by the fake diamonds around the base of your neck. Your smoked eyes and glossed lips are your core points. You don’t long to impress. Your power lies in your strength and independence, but it’s also in elegance, solace, and trance. Another line says, ‘Simplicity is a killer,’ and you certainly are.

However, beneath it all, only you’re aware of how much of a mess you are because he is currently examining you.

... Still, it’s only acting. Eunseok is merely performing in his role as an actor. And, when acting, one can’t really let one’s true self show. As a result, cameras won’t be able to capture how hot you really feel inside or how confused; all you can hope for is that you don’t mess up your next set of lines.

And it’s that scene in the script where everything has built to a climax, and nothing is held back!

When neither of you can decide what brought you together—your shared dislike or your shared goal—and neither of you can explain the bad cues and inexplicable tension.

Where your personal schemes about who will get the ‘shiny stones’ first are screwed by your shared greed and cynicism.

When you two almost simultaneously blow up each other’s plans.

And wherein, in order to make this work for at least one of you, you have selected a room to talk about the remaining options. In this case, the smarter one will really only be the meaner one.

This finally concludes the exchange of hurtful comments; there will be no more!

The door is the most attractive option, and the room is perfectly silent. However, it simply indicates that the first person out has raised the white flag and signed their lost. It’s impossible for either of you to succumb so easily.

Simultaneously, your character is the first to break the dense silence.

“Do you know where we’re going?”

With a rephrased and pointed question, “Where are you going with this?,” you look up at him then, looking a little disappointed and angry at the same time.

Coolly, Eunseok teases, “I’m trying to figure out if I should call it quits.”

As an actor would, his hair is styled to perfection, and the two hair strands that fall into his eyes and give him a luscious appearance are actually just the result of the tireless efforts of the hair and makeup artists who never stop running after him.

You find yourself ‘out of set’ for a split second, wondering what he’s like by himself. How he appears when he wakes up in the morning, how his hair looks after taking a shower, and how his body is dressed in a baggy, worn-out shirt rather than rich pajamas. However, that’s rather a ‘faraway’ Eunseok.

But the present, Eunseok, does he read you?

“You’re only saying that. But I won’t take the bait from you.” Your character is merely attempting to remind his of how he deceived you during the previous poker round. “In fact, I wish you saw you from my view. You ain’t all that, you know?”

Eunseok’s cool and calm demeanor remains unshaken. In fact, he just keeps on getting cocky. Given that you’re affecting him in ways he doesn’t understand, it’s in his character's self-defense mechanism as a means of continuing to taunt your character.

“Really,” he responds, crossing his gloved hands. His vest lifts at his tiny waist, and he tilts his head to one side in a seductive manner. The tone of his voice has been pre-calculated; every syllable has been worked on in detail. His precision in looking at you, moving, and facial expressions is unparalleled.

“See, I’m good for the ego,” his words come across as too sultry, even though he’s the most soft-spoken he has ever been, “but I’m bad for the soul.”

If you two weren’t in front of the cameras, you’d have closed your eyes and allowed his words to give you goosebumps all over your body, but now isn’t the time to do that.

Not that they aren’t doing it already, either...

They’re actually doing that in real time. His voice, his eyes, and his tongue that digs and crawls at the inside of his cheek.

Just a cold-blooded actor. With every take, this terrifyingly skilled individual sends chills down your spine. You almost get the impression that he’s seriously flirting with you because of how excellently he is delivering his role. Nevertheless, the line is exceedingly thin, and the narrative is already in the script. Is it not?

You protest, looking frustrated, saying, “Your games are endless,” yet still simultaneously approaching him more closely to show that you aren’t afraid of him.

Actually, you and him are on the same level. And to add spice to the situation, you say, “However, this time, we both know that you’re going to lose.”

Waving the metallic Ace of Hearts card in your face, his quick silver tongue catches your attention as it runs along his lips. In an attempt to look impressive and put an end to the questions, Eunseok nonchalantly admits, “I like the games I play.”

Although you must maintain your image and stay in character, all you really want is for all of this to end. You can’t take this and him anymore, like the weeks of filming together have reached a breaking point. You want to scream, ‘Cut!’ to put an end to this suffering, but you can’t fail your dream or let your character down either.

It’s as though you’re developing feelings for someone who isn’t even real. As though you are losing all feeling of reality as you observe him from up close. And because you know what is coming up next, you’re damn sure that Eunseok will take a piece of you with him when the lights go out and the cameras stop rolling, and everything is said and done.

Trouble…

It’s in his perfectly lethal-hued dark eyes. In the way the lamp light hits his eyes that makes him look so enticing, like a glass of whiskey on a thirsty day of never being enough. Intoxicating. Mysterious. Dangerous. A glass of trouble, really, and you’re fastly becoming a growing alcoholic.

The narrative he tells you hurts as his words continuously fall from his gorgeous lips and seep into your thoughts and emotions like melted wax.

“The truth is, you can’t get enough of me.” Eunseok’s same eye-level with you decreases as he straightens up from the desk and now gazes a little down at you, imposing a slight dominance. He lifts his gloves, causing some veins in his arms to bulge between where the gloves end and his white rolled dress shirt begins.

Without consent, his gloved fingers begin to crawl upward the inside part of your naked arm, waking goosebumps on their way. The trace is slow and faint, but that is exactly what he wants—for you to disintegrate bit by bit.

“Admit it,” he prompts.

He’s being pretty sadistic and adamant by insisting that you know that he knows how you feel about him; which is precisely the situation, and it leaves you feeling so exposed.

And it’s as if his proximity, presence, and dominance have completely eroded you, your character ‘breaks character’ as it succumbs to his dark charms.

You two are so close that you can understand each other perfectly, even in whispers right now. So you fire back in a private voice, “If I cared more about the truth,” miserable and defeated, “I’d be too aware of who was using who.”

In response, all he does is smirk,

and after making his way to your shoulders, he subtly brushes his thumb along your collarbone. Heat is generated by the tiny friction, and much like a fire match is struck, it ignites sparks in the air.

His hand then moves to brush some hairs away from your face and tuck them behind your ear. The black leather of his glove begins to skim first, then caress your delicate skin and the left side of your face.

His eyes pierce your soul like a knife, so you look from them to his lips, breaking eye-contact. They lust for touch and have a unique, attractive shape.

“Stop!” You voice out in shock at what he’s doing, but do nothing. His gloved fingertips continue to graze your face.

“Wonderfull,” he comments silently.

Your brain is fried...

And while in a daze, you notice that his tie is a little loose around his collar.

For some reason, this makes you feel compelled to tighten it, sealing the last bit of separation between the two of you. Eunseok’s brows furrow in concern as he realizes that this isn’t at all included in the script. Although this is blatant improvisation, the performance must continue as long as the director doesn’t yell cut.

You can understand why his free hand, which lends on your waist, is gripping you so tightly and nervously. He kind of breaks his neck shyly smiling away from you before turning back to face you...

Again, something the scene steps don’t cover.

“It was out of pl—”

‘ace,’ it’s what you attempt to offer as an explanation while the camera is rolling, but you don’t finish saying it... Your mouth stays agape in contrast.

You opened it with an intention, got distracted, and now you hold it open with a fresh thought.

...Him.

Your lip gloss is a mirror of his tiny diamond-studded vest’s sparkle, as are his eyes, which reflect your phoney diamond necklace.

‘How’d you get so pretty?’ Your mind stutters and your body shudders, yet the line is plain to see as it’s painted on your lips—ready to perform, ready to be spoken. How do you allow yourself to say it, though?

But for real, when did his lips become this pretty?

It’s challenging to discern which aspect of yourself feels and which acts. There is a messed-up intersection where your character throbs with the need to kiss his character, and you throb with the need to kiss him.

Can he feel it? Are you obvious? Does anyone in the room have the ability to see right through you, as though you’re a transparent bottle filled with all these bottled wicked wants and needs?

Under the necklace, the skin on your neck contracts, relaxes, and contracts once more.

Your lips begin to quiver as the cold leather finally slides beneath your chin. Lifting it, your eyes are drawn back to meet his. You’re painfully aware that it’ll only take a single kiss to weaken a million truths.

“Fuck,” he utters as he begins to brush your lips, causing the leather to become sticky from the shiny gloss.

Taking back his hand, he starts to rub and then separate his thumb and index finger, examining the degree of stickiness between them. He sighs, “You’re making me want to suggest that we steal those stones together.”

“I’m not stealing any stones with y—”

“I know, I know,” he says, interrupting. “But almost…”

Eunseok looks directly at you and presses his tacky gloved thumb to his lips.....

The flawless pair of strands that get in the way of his eyes symbolize his seriousness while his tongue begins to pick up and taste any bits of whatever is still on his lips…

The intimacy is revolting, but you aren’t even given a chance to die from all the obscenities he’s doing as he continues.

“You are,” his voice becomes quieter as he speaks, “almost making me want to do it.”

His lips draw nearer. His breath is what you inhale.

“Almo—”

As soon as his lips touch yours, the rest of the sentence disappears. Just as your glittery, dark eyeshadow is captured in perfect detail on camera, his splattered letters perfectly entangle in your mouth.

Unsurprisingly, he gives you a desperate kiss with hands that dig into your waist.

The greatest corruption imaginable is a kiss that says, “If you aren’t mine, then I’m making you mine!” A kiss that puts your life and breath in danger. A kiss that tears through the façade and the acting mask, growing ever more dangerously real.

What’s worse is that having spent so much time with him, it’s so evident when he’s unable to pretend. And currently, he surely cannot!

He cannot act as though his lips aren’t needy or that his skin isn’t becoming hotter. Or that when he pulls your body more into his and presses his tongue deeper inside your mouth, his body isn’t trembling just a little bit.

Your hands slip off his shoulders and latch onto this vest, tugging on it just a little bit, even hanging on to it desperately for the life he’s stealing from you.

His heart is pounding beneath your hand, which is hard to comprehend considering that an actor with his level of training shouldn’t even flinch when filming a kissing scene. More so than anyone else, Eunseok exudes an air of magnetism despite being largely composed of steel. The fact that you’re seeing him partially fall apart for the first time is mind-boggling.

It’s truly insane what only a kiss can reveal. And of anything, it isn’t fast. For this is something that you should feel, just as the audience should when it’s their turn.

You whine his character’s name in between kisses, only slightly conscious that you’re still in the heat of filming this scene. However, he just hushes you, nuzzles your nose gently against his, and continues. His low, pretty pants and foul moans layer at your throat, just as yours in his.

Given how far out of script you two are at this point, you’re certain the director has had enough by now and will call it quits at any moment, but that never happens.

It’s gross how much of Eunseok’s tongue encircles yours while his cute nose wrinkles and brushes against yours. It all makes you want him even more. For the worst part, he smiles through it. It’s quite vile since he knows exactly what he’s doing.

You can feel his lips burn from the constant, wild collisions. And his scent seeps into your nostrils. That much is certain: it’ll be difficult to forget this—to forget him.

“Do you—Do you?” he stammers, pressing his lips to yours as he breathes heavily and squeezes your waist so forcefully that you fear his hands will split you in two.

Since it’s an entirely improvised line, he eventually comes up with the right combination of words. “Have you indulged in this fantasy before? Have you—Have you ever thought about kissing me?”

Even though Eunseok’s words are already weighing heavily on your heart and lips, he adds even more bitterness by saying, “You definitely have.” He answers his own question by not even giving you an opportunity to respond.

But then, is it untrue?

Of course not, as you feel the weakness in your knees. You find it somewhat unfair that he has granted himself a space where he’s fusing reality and fiction.

You fight, “It’s—” while making an effort to escape and resist his lips, “It’s just this time,” but it’s mediocre at best.

As you step back away from him, his hands hopelessly slip off your waist and slide back to his side. They appear empty-looking, as though they don’t own anything of value, like something was snatched from their possession.

Now, empty handed, Eunseok is back gripping the metal of the desk. It isn’t like it’s just you who is feeling the effects of those frenzied kisses; he has definitely lost his breath too. His lips are pretty roused and ‘used-looking’, much like after an intense makeout, while the tips of his ears throb as they peek out from under his dark hair.

He somewhat manages to come up with another line even though his fairly strong defensive system is down.

“Then perhaps it’s just been my imagination all those times I thought I felt you thinking about me.”

Your mouth drops open at the same time as the director cries out,

“CUT! Beautiful! Beautiful!” He waves his hands in all directions proudly. “That take was spot-on perfect; we’re done here. I got everything I want here”, he says, tapping the big camera that some other guy is holding, and also exclaiming, “One take. It only took one take!” with excitement. “Excellent improvisation! Reshooting would only sour the spark.” He then successfully clasps his hands and says, “That’s a wrap, everyone!”

You’re left standing in front of Eunseok, glassy-eyed, quite sensitive, and shocked, but optimistic that what the two of you just did is still partially justified by your acting profession.

It looks like he’s blinking more than normal; and blinking is undoubtedly one of the patterns Eunseok exhibits when he’s nervous, which you’ve noticed throughout the months that you’ve been working with him. He also seems to be in denial, with confused lines painted on his temple.

Both him and you stay motionless while looking at each other as the director talks about the scene with a different staff member, his voice only sounding faint and far away in your ear.

“I like a good chase in a scene. To me, that’s everything. The actors must have a compelling chemistry and be aware of their roles. They must have trust in each other and their actions, because making a film is similar to a construction site, it must be built. It’s more than a camera, lights, and action.” Taking off his baseball cap, he gives himself a head stretch. “Trust me… what these two have is lethal.”

The longer the director keeps making observations, the more of the ‘real’ Eunseok is in your presence. Adorable, nervous smiles, head turns, and motions; knitted brows that enlarge his eyes even more. It’s as if he has softened his human side, opened his heart, and ‘thrown his metallic armour away.’

Finally, after hearing the comments, he sort of hisses with a ‘Really?’ while tilting his head to the side and putting on a cute, sarcastic look of suspicion.

“Are you okay?” You ask him in a gentle tone, concerned because it appears he’s thinking through and repeating every step of the scene.

He nods, but his face still wears that expression of shock mixed with denial, and a slight, but still noticeable, shy spark in the far back of his ever so silver persona. It seems like he’s coming to terms with everything that just happened, and he’s still quite riding out the wave.

Now that he has had a taste of how you kiss, it’s quite impeccable how you can bite down like an enemy and later be tender to all of those marks like a friend.

You’re high-key giving him so much more to think about—so many more thoughts to deal with than what the sight of you in your dress had already done for him up to this point.

‘Romance’ slash ‘No Control’ slash ‘Trouble!’

So many twists and turns until the conclusion, but the scene is now over.

The drama is done. The ‘acting’?

Done!

You’ll be taking off your makeup and dressing down, but the characters you just played will still exist within the both of you. That despite the fact that it seems like you two will be avoiding dealing with this for the time being, you’re both actors, and currently, the cost of your acting is your sanity.

Starting today, heartthrob actor Eunseok won’t only continue to cause headaches to the millions of girlies who have his posters hung above their beds, but to you as well.

‘.....Nice.’

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laxmiree · 6 months

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[CN] MLQC Lucien’s Exclusive Past- Monochrome Scenery translation

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT ⚠️

This post contains a HEAVY SPOILER for the story that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

Through Thousands of Mirrors Event | Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | HS/Uni SSR Story: Monochrome Scenery (You're here!)

[Notes from Lux: Here’s the CN video link if anyone wants to follow along his Voice Acting. VERY recommended to re-read Until Dawn R&S regarding his 'contract' with BS. AND perhaps Distant Similarity UR MQ as it's the date that is relevant to this story.

[Part 1]

I walk hurriedly towards Dr. Lawson's laboratory, while opening the paper bag in my hand, and stuffing the hamburger into my mouth.

Skipping lunch might save some time, but if it leads to a lack of carbohydrates and sugar, causing a decrease in productivity during the entire afternoon, it could be counterproductive.

When will nutritionists finally invent nutritional packages? Preferably in the form of a liquid that can be consumed just once a day.

The time saved this way would be enough for me to read a few more research papers.

??: Hi, Lucien. Are you going to the lab?

A friendly voice from behind rings out, and I turn to look behind me.

Lucien: Hello, Elliot.

Elliot: Seems like we're both going to be late.

Elliot quickly crosses a puddle, only slowing down after catching up with my steps.

Elliot: But I recall you've always been punctual. Did the recent lab class not go smoothly?

Lucien: I chatted with Professor White for a while and lost track of time.

Elliot: Ah, I understand. She's always very talkative... The only one who can talk as much as her is my clinical medicine professor.

Elliot sighed deeply and pointed at the teaching building he had walked from. We quicken our pace once more.

When we arrive at the lab, Senior Caroline has already begun today's work.

Just as I put my bag next to my desk, someone heavily pats my back.

??: Hi!!

The overly enthusiastic voice pierces through my eardrums, and without turning around, I know it's Colt.

Now that he's here, his daily challenges are probably about to begin again.

Sure enough, after greeting me, Colt slightly composes himself and looks at me.

Colt: Good afternoon, "Xiū, Mǒ" How's that, did I pronounce it correctly this time?

Lucien: It's "Xǔ Mò".

He scratches his head in frustration and quickly starts a new round of attempts.

Lucien: Actually, you can just call me "Lucien".

Colt: How can that be acceptable? I have great respect for Chinese culture; I'll definitely learn how to pronounce your name!

Colt raises his eyebrows high, and the confident expression on his face is so exaggerated that it could be used as a reference for the facial expression scale.

I give up trying to explain to him that "respect" and "pronunciation" are not causally related, and I put on my protective gear after setting down my bag.

I hope he succeeds soon and gives up making me his involuntary Chinese teacher, where I'm only tasked with examining two words every morning.

Caroline: Shut up, Colt. Leave Lucien alone and come over here to work, okay?

Caroline who was immersed in her experiment furrows her brow and glares at Colt, using her gaze to reprimand the "senior" lab member who has been there the longest.

In the end, she smiles and greets me.

Caroline: How's it going today, Xǔ Mò?

Lucien: Sorry for being late. Where should I start taking over from now?

Colt: This isn't fair! You've never greeted me with such a smile. Wait, why is your pronunciation correct? One more time, Xiū... Xī…

Like everyone else, I calmly ignore Colt's continuous self-challenges and begin today's work.

As a newcomer who has been in the lab for just about a month, there isn't much for me to do.

In fact, everyone here is more like doing their own research in the lab on topics they are passionate about, while occasionally helping Dr. Lawson with minor tasks.

Looking back, it seems that this casual and free atmosphere could be glimpsed from the very beginning, during that interview with just two questions.

=Flashback Start=

Dr. Lawson: You have an excellent research experience, and the awards you've received are enough to apply to even more top-notch labs.

Dr. Lawson: Why did you choose to reach out to me?

The doctor set my application paper and the stack of recommendation letters aside, looking into my eyes.

Lucien: I'm currently very interested in topics related to parietal lobe function research and its applications.

Lucien: So, for me, your lab is the best choice.

Dr. Lawson: Hmm, there is indeed a high match in terms of research direction.

Dr. Lawson: So, what do you hope the lab can provide for you?

I instinctively thought I had misheard.

Questions like "What do you think you can bring to the lab?" are ones I've mastered, but this reverse question isn't as common.

After a brief moment of thought, I honestly answered.

Lucien: If possible, I hope to research more of what I'm interested in within the limited time.

The doctor raised an eyebrow without giving a clear response, concluding this brief interview that lasted less than a few minutes. And a few days later, he sent me an acceptance email.

=Flashback End=

Colt: Hey, Xī Mó! Listen to me, I have a great idea!

Probably seeing that I'm not especially busy, Colt eagerly strides over to my desk, holding a small box in his hand.

I set down the keyboard, take out a notebook from the side, and turn towards him.

Colt's thought process is unique; he always manages to come up with some innovative ideas.

Lucien: Do you have any new ideas regarding the research topic?

Colt: No, no, there's not much to do today. How about a game of the traditional lab card game - NOU!

Colt: Do you want to join?

Lucien: …

And of course, there are times when it's just pure time-wasting.

I offer a polite and apologetic smile in return.

Lucien: No, thank you.

[Part 2]

A fixed routine can often lead to a skewed perception of time and dates.

I flip over the calendar again and mark the schedule for the midterm exam week, which is about half a month away.

Exams may not be a cause for concern, but papers and classroom presentations still require time-consuming preparation.

I furrow my brow as I look at the data for my research project on my desk. Just as I'm about to set down my pen, I pause.

The current issue is that the research progress is slower than anticipated, requiring extra time to meticulously review the results.

The once well-structured plan has become exceptionally tight.

How about cutting two hours off my sleep? It shouldn't significantly affect my regular routine.

And smoothly, a blank section appears on the spreadsheet.

Satisfied, I add a line next to my schedule: "Email Dr. Lawson to request an extension of laboratory usage time" as a reminder.

Then, I pick up the already printed poster and leave the dorm on time.

It's my turn to present a report in class today.

Lucien: Hello, everyone. Now it's my turn to share something with all of you.

Whispers of discussion arise one after another, even a few students who had just been yawning straightened up in their seats.

Half the semester has passed, and the curious glances that used to accompany me have subsided. My age, my height, and where I come from might not be as important anymore.

I know very well that now all the curious and probing gazes are focused solely on the poster I have unfolded.

In the corner of my eye, someone raises their hand.

Lucien: Is there a question?

I set down my materials and quietly look at the student who raises their hand.

Student A: I don't have any questions about your presentation. I'm just curious if injuries in the relevant brain region have an impact on drug addiction?

This is an expected question, as I myself noticed similar uncertainties when researching for literature.

Lucien: There is indeed an overlap, but based on existing research, I don't believe there is a direct correlation between the two.

Lucien: Moreover, for the topic I'm currently presenting, there's no need to overly emphasize the impact of different functions within the same area.

But it's evident that the other person doesn't share the same view.

After a brief moment of silence, he raises the issue of potential effects caused by drugs, and I counter each of his points.

However, the consecutive inquiries and debates have actually given me a fresh perspective on the topic at hand.

I attempt to work it out in my head, then take a pen and start writing on the whiteboard.

Lucien: Adding the drug effects caused by addiction as one of the conditions…

Lucien: I currently lack the relevant literature evidence, further substantiation will require future research, but I do have some hypotheses.

The rapidly moving marker on the whiteboard makes a slight squeaking sound as I write, and more questions and discussions emerge in the classroom.

Student B: Given the drug effects, the current papers seem somewhat lacking in rigor.

Student C: But we also shouldn't overly focus on such special cases, just from an experimental perspective…

These ideas and questions aren't quite direct and precise enough.

But the known theorems are once again filled with possibilities, and what I initially considered just a school assignment topic seems to have become interesting again.

The brilliance of the unknown and curiosity subtly shine through the structured words, silently beckoning everyone who tries to explore the mysteries.

Of course, I'm also paying the corresponding "price" for this "interest".

Class ends nearly twenty minutes later than scheduled, and I can only jog all the way, hoping not to be too late for the next classroom.

As I gaze at the ever-extending street ahead, I begin to understand why so many people are buying bicycles.

—------------------------------------------------------------

Lucien: Good afternoon, I hope I'm not too late.

Caroline: Of course not. Take a rest for a while. There isn't much to do today.

Caroline looks up, smiles at me, and points to the well-stocked snack cabinet on the side.

I put down my backpack, intending to pick up my water bottle to get some water, but I notice that there's a stack of data on the table that I haven't worked on, with several annotations written in different handwriting.

Slender and smooth cursive characters detail the model's construction and calculation process, while round and hastily written words explain extensive contemplation and inferences, along with many grammar errors.

Slightly smaller handwriting marks cited references and related experiments.

Lucien: Are these... further derivations based on my personal research project?

A head pokes out from the edge of the table.

Colt smiles and waves at me, with Caroline and Elliot following behind.

Several people stand by the table, making the already small space seem even smaller.

Colt: Well, I heard about the direction of your project a few weeks ago during the meeting and found it very interesting. I got into the habit of discussing it with Caroline when we were chatting…

Caroline gives an apologetic smile.

Caroline: I'm really sorry. Colt looked at your desk and research notes without your permission.

Caroline: He usually doesn't have a strong sense of boundaries when he's around us, and we've become used to it. We didn't expect him to go through your research materials this time.

Caroline: I initially wanted to refuse to discuss it with him, but the research direction is so novel, and the reasons for the roadblock are also quite intriguing. It was easy to get carried away…

The research content is indeed not much of a privacy concern, and exchanging data and projects is quite normal.

Lucien: Next time, we could discuss it during the regular meeting or just talk to me directly. It would be more efficient.

Lucien: However…

I quietly watch the smiling faces of others, my puzzlement still not answered.

Lucien: As I recall, my direction doesn't really overlap with yours, does it?

Caroline: Yes, so we've just made some inferences. The specifics still require you to take another look.

Lucien: Okay.

I lower my head again and begin to roughly browse through those handwritings.

Colt didn't propose a new direction but changed the experimental approach, while Caroline and Elliot used this to present arguments or counterarguments.

Different notes mutually fill in and correct each other, gradually outlining a clear framework.

Lucien: This hypothesis seems to have a high feasibility.

Lucien: I will try to adjust the experiment according to this approach later.

Lucien: At a suitable time in the future, based on the specific data, we can determine whether it can move forward or not.

Colt: Sure, it can!

Colt nods vigorously, his voice much louder than usual.

Colt: I've noticed that you've been busy with midterm exams and papers lately, so I ran some of the data with them to save you from spending extra time to test and verify the data.

Colt: So far, several graphs are looking quite good. I hope they can be of help to you!

Lucien: …All of the data?

I'm stunned.

I've already prepared to apply for extra lab time, but the data I needed to test and verify has just landed directly in my hands like this.

Colt: Of course! The three of us taking turns won't take much time, better than you staying here without eating or drinking.

On the side, Elliot also smiles and hands over another stack of documents.

Elliot: I asked a friend who's a clinical medicine student, and I was able to get some research materials on what happens when you have a lesion in the area in question.

Elliot: Perhaps it can offer some assistance from a different perspective. Consider it as broadening your perspective.

Lucien: Thank you. I did plan to reference some research findings from other fields, but unfortunately, I haven't had enough time recently.

A valuable idea to consider, coupled with readily available data, and the issue that had been stagnant for two weeks was suddenly solved without any warning.

I silently look at the mixed handwriting.

I know that human beings will always help each other and work together to achieve what individuals can't do alone.

Relying on each other for certain aspects and independently taking on the needs of others within the same community.

But along with the objective facts, there is also an inexplicable and faint warm feeling surging to my heart.

The seemingly ordinary paper in my hand now vaguely has a different weight to it.

Lucien: (gently) Thank you, all of you.

Colt: Hey, kid.

Colt smiles and puts his arm around my shoulder.

Colt: We're all from the same lab, so helping each other is only natural.

[Part 3]

After the last meeting before the autumn break, Dr. Lawson stopped me.

Dr. Lawson: Lucien, do you have any plans for the autumn break?

Dr. Lawson is organizing the reports we submitted, his tone is calm.

Lucien: I'm staying on campus. If there's a need for someone to oversee the lab, I can help.

Dr. Lawson: You aren't going home?

I smile and reply in the same tone that Colt and the others usually use when joking around.

Lucien: Returning to Loveland City during such a short one-week break?

Dr. Lawson smiles and shakes his head.

Dr. Lawson: How about going nearby? You still have time to plan a short trip with friends.

Dr. Lawson: There are plenty of interesting places within the state worth seeing. Take a train or bus, and "whoosh," it's easy to get around.

Lucien: That sounds appealing, but I'd prefer to take this opportunity to catch up on my project and coursework progress.

Lucien: Recently, my research has just started to make some progress. I'd like to work on it nonstop until I achieve some results.

Lucien: Or is it just that during the autumn break, the school doesn't allow students to stay on campus?

Dr. Lawson: Of course not, silly kid.

Dr. Lawson: I'm just curious, why are you always in such a hurry?

I quietly look at the old man in front of me.

There are too many things I want to explore, and there's too little time.

Nevertheless, I don't feel that I appear "impatient" in my usual behavior.

The doctor shakes his head and taps the table with his fingers.

Dr. Lawson: At your age, you should go out more, travel, play games, take walks, do something silly... Just do anything to waste time and enjoy life.

Dr. Lawson: You do have an impressive intellect, but there are geniuses all around here. So, frankly, you're also an ordinary kid.

Lucien: ….

I've never thought of myself as a once-in-a-lifetime genius, but being straightforwardly labeled as "ordinary" is indeed a first for me.

And, of course, being labeled "in a hurry" is also a first.

Lucien: I don't quite understand what you mean, Doctor.

After a brief silence, I eventually chose to ask the question directly.

Dr. Lawson: I don't doubt your abilities. Lucien, you can accomplish many things by yourself.

Dr. Lawson: But you should also trust your team, after all, this laboratory doesn't consist of just you alone.

He casually points to a group of people in the distance who are playing NOU, and over there, it's particularly noisy, as if the game of cards is reaching a conclusion.

Caroline proudly crosses her arms and looks sideways at Colt, who is slumped over the table, looking dejected.

Elliot begins to tidy up the card table and starts shuffling the cards again.

Dr. Lawson: They're all kids in their late teens to early twenties here in the lab. Came a few years before you, and perhaps they'll leave a few years earlier as well.

Dr. Lawson: But in the road of scientific research, everyone is just a beginner taking their first steps.

Dr. Lawson: I'm not asking you to really study and imitate anyone, but doing something different from your usual routine might make you gain something special. What do you think?

The doctor slows down his voice, his calm tone not resembling a question, it's as if he's talking about the treasure that he is most proud of.

The stack of data with various annotations from a few days ago inexplicably resurfaces in my memory.

I subconsciously infer that when the doctor said, "You're just an ordinary kid", perhaps it meant, "There are many people like you here."

Looking at Dr. Lawson again, he remains as not casual and serious as he was during class. His words are solemn and genuine with a touch of guidance.

Dr. Lawson: If you haven't achieved any significant progress or results within a week, there's no need to lock yourself in the lab every day. But if you need to, remember to turn off the lights and lock the door.

I carefully put away the key he had placed on the table.

Lucien: I'll keep an eye out for it.

Dr. Lawson: Happy holidays.

Lucien: I also wish you a happy holiday.

I say goodbye to him, and as I walk to the door, the doctor adds another sentence.

Dr. Lawson: Take care. And of course, I mean not just during these vacation days.

He smiles at me, speaking a bit slower than usual.

Lucien: You too, Doctor. Take care.

"Take care." The simple sentence passes through my mind, lingering longer than the other phrases.

I think maybe it's because of the pronunciation.

—-------------------------------------------------------

The teaching building has become much quieter during the holidays.

The leaves outside the window are rustling. It's as if the entire city is reminding people of the traces of autumn.

The laboratory feels strangely colder than usual after I'm the only one left.

I closed the window, put on my sweatshirt, and continued with the experiment at hand.

However, the autumn chill didn't last long and was soon warmed up again by the lingering heat of summer.

—-------------------------------------------------------

Five days later, along with the rising temperature, what returned was the noisy chatter within the laboratory.

The first to arrive at the laboratory is the always-diligent Caroline.

She brings a larger-than-usual handbag, takes out beautifully wrapped gifts, and places them on everyone's table one by one.

Caroline: A few days ago, I went to Yellowstone National Park with my family and brought back some souvenirs.

Lucien: Thank you. How was your holiday?

Caroline: It was pretty good, though I wish it could have been longer. I feel like I could stay there for at least half a month.

Caroline: I thought you might prefer something more practical, so I brought this for you. Go ahead and open it.

She smiles and points to the gift box I had placed by the desk. Inside the neatly wrapped layers of gift paper is a coffee mug, with the design of erupting geysers on its surface.

Caroline: This is a landmark sight in the park. I was truly moved when I saw it erupt right on time. I really wish everyone in the lab could go see it!

Lucien: I'll go there if I get the chance in the future.

??: Hi friends! I'm back! Did you miss me during your wonderful holiday?

The next second, a figure rushes in through the door of the laboratory.

Colt is also carrying a package, which is twice the size of Caroline's.

Colt: Oh my god... you're actually working. That's way too diligent.

He looks at me with wide eyes. After some rummaging in the package, there's another gift on my desk.

Colt: I highly recommend trying my grandma's cookies. Even the most popular shops around here can't compete with her skills.

Colt: Oh, by the way, the bookmarks inside were made by my mom. She's recently gotten into handicraft, and our house is getting filled with the things she makes.

Lucien: Please thank your family on my behalf.

Colt: Then they'd be so delighted that they might just invite you over as a guest.

Colt: By the way, do you really spend every day in the lab? Haven't you had any rest at all?

Colt sits down next to me, looking like he won't give up until he gets an answer.

Lucien: I visited a few museums.

Lucien: I also visited some scenic spots along the way and strolled through the market.

Caroline: I remember a few days ago there was a Shakespearean touring theater group performing nearby. Have you heard about it? The performance…

The computer screen in front of me enters screensaver mode, and I realize that I should politely decline this conversation to reactivate the computer and continue processing the data I was in the middle of reviewing.

But when my fingertips touch the keyboard, I pause again.

Such conversations don't have much meaning, but they don't make me feel annoyed either.

Besides, today's progress has been completed ahead of schedule, and there is indeed some free time on my agenda.

I let the screen continue playing the screensaver images.

Colt: How about we also go see a play today?

Lucien: The theater troupe left the day before yesterday, and tickets also needed to be booked in advance.

During the conversation, the laboratory door is pushed open once again.

Elliot: Hey, I thought I was the earliest one here.

Elliot also has a delicately wrapped gift in his hands.

Same greetings, same small talk, and same distribution of gifts.

I look at the three gifts on the desk- I should have some time over the weekend to visit the market and find three suitable return gifts.

Before the plan has been finalized, another particularly large gift appears on my desk.

Dr. Lawson: You all should find these books useful.

Dr. Lawson smiles and nods at us, placing the hefty books one by one on our respective desks, before finally sitting back in the chair and letting out a sigh of relief.

Dr. Lawson: I really should have chosen some lighter gifts; four big books are too heavy for an old man like me.

Lucien: ....Looks like it's four gifts.

I say to myself softly.

Dr. Lawson: Hmm? Did you say something, Lucien?

Lucien: Nothing. I was just saying… "thank you".

Lucien: By the way, Doctor. Here's the key to the laboratory.

The small key that has been with me for five days is returned to its rightful owner.

The gentle breeze blows a book on my table, flipping back a page as fallen leaves dance lightly and land on the windowsill.

I glance at the cloudless sky, hoping that this weekend will also be a sunny day, suitable for going out.

[Part 4]

Everyone left the laboratory with the gifts, but Colt unexpectedly broke from his usual behavior and didn’t attend any party.

Instead, he followed Elliot and me all the way to our dormitory building.

Elliot: Colt, your dormitory isn't over here.

Colt: I know, I know. But on this especially memorable day, how about a game of NOU to celebrate? Here's to our reunion!

Elliot: I knew it... I don't want to play NOU with just the two of us. You better invite one more person.

Colt: Will Xù mò be joining us?

Colt looks up at me, and this is the 16th invitation he has extended to me since I joined this laboratory.

Lucien: Okay.

Colt: It's fine, maybe next time... Wait, what?!

Elliot: You're going to join us?!

They aren't the only ones confused, I'm also a bit puzzled myself.

The choices I've made today are all a bit out of the ordinary, and it makes me wonder why I want to act the way I do.

If I join, will I be able to find the answers?

Besides... Looking at the two of them that have the same expression as if they've just seen a new topic; if I want to refuse now, the amount of effort required doesn't seem proportional to the outcome.

Lucien: Yes.

Lucien: I don't have any other plans for today-

Before I could finish speaking, the two of them had already surrounded me, one on the left and one on the right.

Colt: Is this the blessing of the Autumn Break God! Elliot, let's go quickly.

Elliot: Lucien won't run away again this time.

Saying so, he continues to pull me without stopping towards a small table in the public lounge area.

Just as we sit down at the small table, Colt eagerly begins to shuffle the cards.

Elliot: Do you need an explanation of the rules?

Lucien: No need.

Having watched them play so many times, I'm not entirely unfamiliar with the rules of the game, and the symbols on the corners of the cards also help me determine their colors.

I'll consider it as an exercise in reasoning and memory then.

—--------------------------------------------------------

Elliot: NOU, +2!

Colt: Wait a minute, that's not right. You're cheating! Why do you have a red +2?

After the initial "demonstration round", I quickly realized that this game might not be as straightforward as I had imagined.

Lucien: ...Drawing a +2 card directly from the deck is not entirely impossible either.

Colt: Huh? +2 should be in your hand, right?

Colt: Judging by the overall color distribution of the cards played, it seems like you're building a hand predominantly based on red cards.

Lucien: However, based on the cards that have already been played, there are still 28% red cards left in the deck.

Lucien: I would need to draw that +2 card along with another red number card starting from at least the first four rounds to maintain an advantage without playing the +2.

Elliot: My dear friend, just admit that low probability is still probability and draw the cards.

I nod in silence and urge Colt to draw a card, preventing the game from turning into his endless mathematical calculations.

If that happens, he will build a solid model in his mind and he'll be almost impossible to beat.

I take another look at the situation on the card table.

Setting Colt aside for now, among Elliot's three cards, there should only be blue and green ones.

Or in an extremely low-probability scenario, there might be one Wild card or possibly the last +4 card aside from mine.

I closely watch each card played, rapidly calculating the possible card arrangements in others' hands in my mind.

And I'm equally aware that the other two people sitting at the card table are also making their own deductions in their own ways.

I need to conduct another experiment, even if the cost is higher than expected value.

It's my turn once again.

Lucien: Change color, let's go with... blue.

Colt, who is determined to beat Elliot, wears a worried expression, while Elliot confidently draws a card.

"Reverse."

I silently say to myself.

Elliot: Reverse.

The variables waiting to be filled in gradually decrease, and assuming confirmation is obtained, the inference is established.

The opportunity to determine the course of the card game on the table comes back to me once again.

Colt: Come on Xǔ mò, it's time to play a number card and join forces to eliminate Elliot early!

Lucien: Is that so? I thought I'd have a better option.

Quick responses and extensive thinking make the brain more active than usual.

A seemingly meaningless card game becomes more complex due to repeated setups and disruptions.

Pure competition for calculation speed and formulating strategies stimulate the release of neurotransmitters.

I raise the corners of my mouth and quietly play my card.

Lucien: I choose +4, green.

Due to too many unexpected situations, Colt, who had stopped calculating, begins to howl in frustration.

Elliot, sitting across the table, also appears surprised, his gaze once again scanning the cards on the table.

It's my turn again.

I smile, say NOU, and play the green number card, leaving only one of the same color in my hand and skipping the next player’s turn.

Unless the almost improbable reversal occurred when they have the last card, a color-changing card, and bring it onto the playing field from the deck

But I trust my calculations more than probability.

Colt: Xǔ mò, I thought you were my friend!

Colt has flipped his cards onto the table, giving up on the struggle.

Lucien: Of course I am. That's why I'm sitting here, playing cards with you.

I lean my chin on my hand and look at the card table, unable to suppress the victorious curve at the corner of my mouth.

Lucien: Also, thank you for calling me by my name correctly.

Unfortunately, it's still Elliot who reaches 500 points first.

Colt is not one to accept defeat easily, and he pulls us into starting a new round of the game.

The card game goes on from the afternoon into the evening, and we unknowingly gather a crowd of onlookers around us.

Centered around this small table, the dormitory that was quiet just a few hours ago is now overflowing with discussion and laughter.

We graciously give up our seats to other students who also want to give it a try and withdraw from the crowd.

Colt: Xī... Xú mò is quite skilled. If we go by rounds, he tied with Elliot.

I haven't responded yet when Elliot chuckles and shakes his head, then tosses a box of ice cream from the fridge to both Colt and me.

It's the most common chocolate ice cream with nuts and chocolate chunks added.

I've seen it in many convenience stores, but I've never been interested in buying it.

Elliot: In front of our little genius' brain, even the best luck can only yield to skill.

Colt: Sigh... the vacation is too short. It feels like it just started, and now it's already over in a blink of an eye.

Colt finished his ice cream in a few bites and tossed the empty box into the trash. He leans on the bar table, watching the new round of NOU craze.

Colt: How about we have another round of NOU to refresh ourselves after the experiment is over tomorrow?

Elliot: Lucien, are you joining as well?

Lucien: I have to start preparing for my thesis from tomorrow.

Lucien: The experiment has made progress as well, so I want to sort out the related processes.

Colt: Oh... that's a shame. But how about next time? You'll come, right?

In the dorm room without air conditioning on this autumn day, the ice cream seems to melt even faster than it would in the heat of summer.

I scoop up a spoonful of the slightly softened ice cream and put it in my mouth.

The taste of chocolate spreads with the coolness, it's sweeter than I had imagined.

Lucien: I will if I have the time.

—------------------------------------------------

After seeing them off, I close the door and start preparing for tomorrow's coursework, allowing life to return to its normal course.

A notification pops up on my laptop, indicating an email from Dr. Lawson.

"Hi, everyone. Thank you for your hard work. Our lab's project has passed the review, so you can start preparing for the academic conference that will take place in a few months."

"The conference will be held on a beautiful beach on the West Coast. Since we have ample time, you can all bring your swimsuits and enjoy some time by the water."

"Colt, as for you, don't bring too many fancy things. And definitely leave the unicorn swimming ring behind!"

I can almost imagine Dr. Lawson saying this with a furrowed brow, while Colt complains reluctantly.

"P.S. Lucien's personal research topic aligns with the conference theme. Although the application is a bit late, there will be people at the conference who have done related research."

"You can prepare a summary of your current progress and any issues you've encountered to discuss together."

"P.P.S. Welcome back, everyone."

These few short sentences make me feel a bit warm.

*Ding*

The inbox hasn't closed yet, and there's another notification sound.

The email is encrypted; its sender is Black Swan.

I glance at the calendar and realize that today is the day for the routine report.

The newly arrived email obscures most of Dr. Lawson's message, and the sharp-edged letters in the signature appear to be some kind of silent warning.

"Why are you always in such a hurry?"

Dr. Lawson asked me this before the autumn break.

Yes, children his age have plenty of time to pause, slow down, and enjoy the scenery around them.

To try, to fail, to start over from scratch, to explore endless possibilities.

But Doctor, vacations are always so short.

They always end when you least expect it.

I close the laptop and start selecting the book I want to read tonight.

----------------------------------------------------------

[Phone Call- Class Reunion]

Lucien: Hello? At this time, you should have finished washing up and lying down, right?

MC: Um! I just finished my skincare routine and am already lying down.

Lucien: You sound happier than usual. Did you have a lot of fun at the class reunion today?

MC: You can tell?~ So many people came to the gathering today! All of my old roommates were there too!

Lucien: Are they the ones in the photo you sent, who took a group picture with you?

MC: Yes! Although we've kept in touch after graduation, getting back together like this is still quite rare.

Lucien: No wonder your eyes looked a bit red in the photo.

MC: Haha... I got a little too excited.

MC: But now that I think about it, I don't recall Professor Lucien mentioning much about his own classmates or roommates?

Lucien: I do have colleagues I work with in a lab, but our relationship might not be as close as you and your friends.

MC: Do you guys meet up regularly?

Lucien: We are now in different places continuing our own projects, and most of us have our own laboratories.

Lucien: It's indeed not easy to find a time when everyone is available.

Lucien: However, we do occasionally meet at neuroscience-related academic conferences. That could perhaps be considered a sort of 'class reunion'.

MC: ...Is this what gatherings are like for scientists?

MC: What about your roommates? Do you meet up with them?

Lucien: I lived in a single room and didn't really socialize with others in the same dormitory building.

MC: Wow! That must have been so comfortable! Doesn't that mean you could do whatever you wanted?

Lucien: At that time, I thought it was very convenient to have a space where I would not be disturbed by other people.

Lucien: But now, I've come to realize that having a 'neighbor' around who can 'disturb' me at any time might actually be more comforting.

MC: Oh? Do tell, I'm all ears!.

Lucien: For instance, when I'm out, someone can help me take care of the flowers on my windowsill, or if I forget to buy new tea leaves, I can ask this special neighbor next door for a bit.

Lucien: There are also occasional biscuits and sandwiches, and if I stay up too late, I will receive reminders.

Lucien: And more importantly…

Lucien: With this neighbor lady here, the place where I live is not just a spot to rest, but can be called a home.

[Phone Call - Novice Period]

Lucien: I thought you were also too busy to answer my call today.

MC: I just had a meeting with the new colleagues at the company, so I didn't hear your call.

Lucien: Do you still have some work left to finish?

MC: Not exactly... it's just that this recent batch of new colleagues who joined recently has been really busy.

MC: So I decided to hold a meeting to help them improve efficiency during work hours, aiming for them to leave on time after work.

MC: After all, there's always more work to be done, right? I don't want them to wear themselves out. The way they approach overtime work makes me quite nervous.

Lucien: [chuckles] They're lucky to have a boss who cares for the well-being of employees like you.

Lucien: However, when everyone starts their first job, there's always a certain level of nervousness. So, they can only ease that nervousness by working hard.

MC: Oh? Professor Lucien, you sound quite experienced, but I suppose you didn't have such worries, did you?

Lucien: Of course not, the first time I entered a laboratory outside of school, I also needed some time to adapt.

MC: Wow, what were you like back then?

Lucien: Hmm... I had to clean lab equipment, organize data files, help with literature research—there were many mundane tasks.

MC: Pfft, so Professor Lucien also started as a working person from scratch.

Lucien: That's right. Everyone in the same lab was highly capable, so back then, I often shadowed others, observing and learning as much as I could.

MC: Were there people even more capable than you?

Lucien: [chuckle] Among them, I think I'm just an ordinary person who works hard.

MC: Professor Lucien, your concept of 'ordinary' seems quite demanding.... But I didn't expect you to have a 'novice period' as well.

Lucien: Is that such a surprise?

MC: Maybe it's because your student days were quite unique. While most people were enjoying their youth, you were immersed in scientific research.

Lucien: I suppose it all depends on one's definition of 'youth'.

Lucien: If we're talking about a phase in life where you can do what you like without worrying about consequences, where you can fully explore possibilities…

Lucien: In that case, I'd say my graduate and postgraduate years could also be considered as 'youth'.

Lucien: If you define it as having a love with someone close to you, that you can't bear to part with and always in your heart…

Lucien: In that case, I'd say my youth hasn't had a chance to slip away from me yet.

--------------------------------------------------------

[Lux's short rambling corner]

And finally, it's done 🎉 If I'm being completely honest, the reason it took so long was because I felt that the end of this story seemed 'incomplete'—and I think it turns out to be true? Because the newest birthday story feels like it completes this story.

Still, just as he mentioned in "Distant Similarity UR' MQ," he's accustomed to working alone because there was no one he could confide in, often sacrificing his own sleep to fit more into his schedule. Due to his past self-reliance, he finds himself somewhat at a loss when others offer their assistance 🥲. He's someone who is deeply touched by even the smallest acts of kindness, and you can detect a hint of confusion in his usually monotone 'thank you.'

It's heartwarming to see that he receives small acts of kindness from those around him. His college life seems less hectic thanks to the support he gets from both his friendly seniors and caring mentor 🥺. I also enjoy their harmonious yet playful team dynamic, with Colt being my personal favorite because he reminds me of Fan Zihang, hahah.

Another noteworthy point is what Dr. Lawson mentioned about him being fundamentally an ordinary kid. I think it's accurate, because beneath his 'rush to move forward' demeanor, there's also a yearning for warmth and the opportunity to slow down.

In the dorm room without air conditioning on this autumn day, the ice cream seems to melt even faster than it would in the heat of summer.

I scoop up a spoonful of the slightly softened ice cream and put it in my mouth.

The taste of chocolate spreads with the coolness, it's sweeter than I had imagined.

God, I absolutely adore PG's writing and the beautiful metaphors they weave into the story. Through the story you can see how Lucien's barrier starts to melt by the warm atmosphere. And that's because he's an inherently lonely kid who also longs for warmth and mundane life. It's just too bad that the longing he had shattered in the face of his reality. If i had to describe what I feel when I read that sentence about the email, It'd be like waking up from a sweet dream, and now the sweet dream is tinted with layers of sadness🥲. The dream was over and he had no other choice but to bury his longing so deep.

Why the constant hurry? Because he had no choice but to grow faster than other kids; he didn't have the privilege to fail and try again. Why did he keep his distance from others? Perhaps because he doesn't want to experience another loss after his parents. Why didn't he go 'home'? Because at that time he didn't have anything that can be called a 'home'. Once he wakes up from this sweet but fleeting dream, the world he's diving into is even more treacherous than hell. So in the end, he kept his distance from others just as he said in Distant Similarity UR.

Distant Similarity UR," "Until Dawn R&S," and "Monochrome Scenery" together create a comprehensive picture of his 16-year-old self. "Distant Similarity UR" sheds light on how his college experiences influenced him and his reflections on that period. "Until Dawn R&S" delves into his narrative with BS and his ambitiousness. Meanwhile, "Monochrome Scenery" reveals his more 'human' side and the sense of his relaxed college life being a sort of 'vacation' amidst the long darkness in his life… Anyway, I want to write more but my schedule is tight with all the birthday translation 🤣 Perhaps if I have time I'd write a more comprehensive analysis. Thank you for reading!

#JNDSJHDJ SORRY IT WAS LATE #a very needed read for birthday event!!#mlqc lucien #mr love queen's choice #mlqc cn #mlqc spoiler #mlqc #mlqc translation #mr. love queen's choice #mr love lucien #mlqc xu mo

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unproduciblesmackdown · 1 year

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prommy i'm not trying to liveblog which i can't even do extensively b/c while i Must speak at length, it sure takes time and effort all the same. but i'm hype delighted again like, midway through, talking to the mvp brasso friend with this kind of....not entirely sure what blue collar gig he's got here lol but. cassian walking up and their earnest exchange turning into cassian's ;0 ;0 ;0 [no Actual obvious cues abt the transition] implicitly asking him for an alibi by "correcting" him about what he did last night, as what They did last night. and my taking a second to catch on just like the other guy brasso, Immersive. and i love the way things don't feel like predictable such that there's no slight surprises / reasons to be attentive like this, but also aren't like confusing or incomprehensible. i'm already hype remembering how brasso here responds by just rolling with it, seguing right into playing along, and then their talking between the lines of their story they're constructing together. hype enough i'll leave this open while i actually watch through the rest of the exchange. ooh yeah the way you're kind of waiting along as well to see if brasso's "correction" to their story here is going to be a rejection of it, but actually he's adding to it to cover cassian being a bit banged up And to even extend the story to include a reason they're now standing together talking right at this very moment. ah and i guess they're coworkers also? even though cassian's plot allows for no day job material that we see

also that i'm hype b/c it's like, heartwarming lol, this guy is just like yeah i've got you with your cover story even though i don't now what for and cassian didn't try to answer who might be asking for it. the way you get the lore that cassian gets into trouble already and the way that if someone's in trouble that can get the people around them in trouble, if someone's vulnerable that can make the people around them vulnerable, and obviously that's not ideal but also there's nothing for it and you can't throw them to the wolves, or rather, you sure can but the like effective collective punishment of it all to preclude its being easier to unionize or indeed help insulate each other from whatever vulnerability is like, the deliberate strategy, of course it's best re: that strategy if taking on the inherent increased vulnerability of being involved with, or supporting, or helping other people is deemed not worth it, or gets people focused on blaming the people in trouble rather than the people behind whatever reprisal instead. fun understandable moments when bix is head in hands about helping cassian out in a pinch, and then when her space boyf is like look as her space ex who seems to always be stressing her out when you come by i'm not the biggest fan, and that he responds to cassian's brushoff abt her being tougher than both of them with the line along the lines of "i'm getting tired of hearing that" is like, again yeah fun understandable lol but then narcing on cassian to get the space cops to solve his problem? like, not the way, and of course now pointing the feds in that direction doesn't just smoothly work out, the comeuppance in his dying b/c calling this down on them also gets bix caught up in things, you're all [handshake] w/cassian in this scenario in how you're viewed here and that None of your best interests will be catered to today....nothing for it trying to get anything out of the [police state life] situation, nor is the way that if anyone's more vulnerable than everyone else, you just shut them out or push them in front of the bus, even if the bus is cruising around trying to pick up them specifically. metaphors. feels all like v apt setup for the more significant return to ferrix at the end involving maarva bringing some politics like "i'm the first brick at stonewall, we can't Just get by forever" and cassian like well i Will be having to come through for bix though. wrote it, post it

#watched rogue one and andor and now i am antifascist #we do relate to the respective protagonists / combined deuteragonists of the former #and that present day starts out with jyn simply already in space jail like right on....#not even liable to link up all the like Cameos or just crossovers like how i didn't realize [actor/name/Character] link w/melshi there lol #but i do think i recognize the like prawn alien cellmate jyn had there in andor? that his space ex. or space sexy roommate or w/e they had #Seems to now be with that prawn alien if i indeed recognize the design when cassian zips back in for his money guns stash don't mind me....#which is like. aptly both kind of funny like this little background bit that implies this person keeps dating these randos who keep getting #arrested but it's also like; you can readily imagine the Dramatic Framing like well that also just really sucks for everyone. just like irl #i mean space irl....like cassian did just vanish i guess; Maybe he got one phone call or smthing but don't seem to have a space right to a #space attorney so maybe not even that. not like it seemed we're supposed to think they were incredibly close but still.#and then the implication the Next partner or sexy roommate or w/e is going to be arrested imminently enough....#andor #back to add: couldn't remember for sure in the last episode like brasso makes it; right :0 (yes)

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jokertrap-ran · 3 years

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(未定事件簿) EVENT! 「眷然恋影」 [Tears of Themis] EVENT: Zuo Ran Birthday 2021- Days to Re-Live Forever (4.22: Dubbing Contest)

*Tears of Themis Masterlist / Mobile Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Will also be filed under Zuo Ran’s tag #Tears of a Lawyer *The tracking tag for ALL Event Stories will go under: #Tears of an Event

4.18 / 4.20 / 4.22 / 4.24 / 4.26 Messages / Investigations / Call

Location: The Film Museum

MC: "You really like me?"

MC: "Even my clothes?"

Zuo Ran: "I like your clothes."

MC: "And my hair. Isn't it too… Brown?"

Zuo Ran: "I like brown."

……

Zuo Ran and I were currently participating in the Film Museum's Holo-dubbing Contest. Granted, the reason why I participated in it was to nab more volunteer points.

MC: (Lawyer Zuo's really handling it in stride. Looks like I'm guaranteed to get the points this time round!)

The set still required a large window mural, and I'd get enough points to redeem it so long as I win this contest.

MC: (I never thought that he'd agree without a moment's hesitation when I told him that I wanted to try dubbing.)

The holographic projection recreated the scene of the male and female leads of "About Time", displaying it in all its glory and providing us with an immersive dubbing experience.

This clip included both the first meeting of the hero and the heroine, and the scene where they met again before starting to date each other. It was an edited version filled with scenes that I'd specially picked out.

Zuo Ran's voice was warm and tender, as if he really was the male protagonist in the film.

Initially, I was a little nervous; but I'd gradually relaxed under the influence of his voice.

MC: (The next line will be Tim's famed one; I'm really looking to see Lawyer Zuo's performance!)

In the movie, this was where the hero, Tim, had already come to the outdoor balcony, with the intention of inviting Mary, the heroine, to leave with him; Together, alone.

Zuo Ran: If… We leave now, this will only just be the beginning."

Suddenly, there was a little hesitation in his speech.

MC: ???

Although it didn't affect the rhythm of how the conversation between the duo flower, it was still slower compared to the pace he had been previously going at

I unconsciously turned to face him, only to realize that the screen of the teleprompter before him was actually pitch-black.

MC: (His teleprompter suddenly broke…?)

Surprised at the sudden turn of events, I was more than ready to call a temporary halt to the competition to get a staff member to fix his teleprompter back up.

But just a moment later, Zuo Ran's voice rang out once more. He was still continuing onwards with the dubbing.

Zuo Ran: "I like your eyes."

Zuo Ran: "And the other parts of your face."

His tender voice he used held innumerable affection. Compared to it being just a dub, this was more like… As if he was really professing his love in front of his lover.

MC: (Did he… Memorize the original script?)

As if confirming my guess, he continued on smoothly.

I saw that it was about time for my line, so I hurriedly composed myself, putting all my concentration into acting out the script.

MC: "Not just any ordinary beginning?"

Zuo Ran: "...10 beginnings that will shock an ordinary person."

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

The dubbing session successfully came to a close thanks to Zuo Ran's brilliant and immaculate performance.

MC: Lawyer Zuo, did you just… Memorize the entire script earlier?

Zuo Ran: Yes. Thankfully, I didn't err too badly.

Zuo Ran: I normally watch the original version of the movie. We had to use the translated lines instead this time, so I did a little pre-preparation.

Zuo Ran: I never thought that it'll come in this handy.

Certainly enough, he was always one to prefer the original version of things, be it a book or a movie.

MC: I see… I feel like you've managed to get a very accurate grasp on the character’s emotions; is this because you’re just really well prepared?

Zuo Ran: I suppose so. I’m not a professional voice actor, but to my understanding of things, what makes the character is what makes for a successful voice-over.

Zuo Ran: That’s why I re-watched the movie a couple more times with the aim of dubbing it in mind. I suppose that was just me, trying to rush at the very last minute to make something count.

MC: Now you’re being way too humble! Come to think of it, I feel like you’ve got quite some similarities to the male protagonist in this movie.

Zuo Ran: Similarities?

MC: Yup. The both of you are lawyers, and you both have very warm personalities.

Zuo Ran: Is that so…? Even if that’s the case, there are some traits of his that I admire.

MC: Oh?

Zuo Ran: Yes. For example, how he’s willing to travel through time again and again, suffering through the long wait that comes with each and every journey; all just so that he can meet the person he loved once more.

Zuo Ran: I admire his courage.

MC: Do you also have things you have to muster up courage to do, Lawyer Zuo?

Zuo Ran: ……Yes.

MC: Then I believe that you'll definitely be able to do it.

Zuo Ran: Eh?

MC: You’re always someone reliable to me, regardless of whether it’s something job-related, or even life matters.

MC: From solving complicated cases on one end of the spectrum, to just an ordinary dubbing contest on the other. I’d say that I feel absolutely at ease just by having you here with me.

MC: That’s why, I believe that you’ll be able to do it, regardless of what it is. You’ll be able to power through it.

MC: You’re the sort of proactive person whose actions speak more than words. Hence, I’ll always put my trust in you, Lawyer Zuo.

Zuo Ran: ……

He levelled his gaze seriously at me for a while before a smile crept up onto his face.

Zuo Ran: Okay, I won’t let you down; not when you’ve put your faith into me.

He paused, hesitating.

Zuo Ran: Actually… It wasn’t just due to habit that I’d prepared for this time’s dubbing contest all so thoroughly.

Zuo Ran: You said that you’d be able to gain a large number of points if you won this, so I decided… That I’d make you win, no matter what.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

In the end, we both won the championship, just as I’d hoped for.

First things first, I went off to exchange my points for the mural that I needed, placing it back where it was supposed to be located on the set.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Previous Part: (4.20: Questionnaire Filling) | Next Part: (4.24: Exchanging Movie Reviews)

#Tears of Themis #Zuo Ran #左然 #Translations #Otome #Mihoyo #未定事件簿 #眷然恋影 #Days to ReLive forever #Zuo Ran 2021 Birthday #Tears of a Lawyer #Tears of an Event #weiding shijian bu #tears of themis translations

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filmjrnl365 · 4 years

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#148 Long Day’s Journey Into Night (2018)

Director: Gan Bi

China / France

“She was always disappearing and reappearing, as mysterious as that abandoned house.”

Gan Bi’s Long Days’s Journey Into Night is an alluring and murky descent into a labyrinth. It does a good job of translating the odd dis-associative feeling and loaded imagery of a dream into a narrative two hour plus in length. A haunting soundtrack, surreal settings, time dislocations and gorgeous cinematography by David Chizallet, make the movie an intriguing and aesthetically mesmerizing encounter.

The film is essentially in two parts. The opening title shot falls out of the ether, and divides the movie in almost the exact middle. After this break, the film becomes increasingly languorous and intertwined. The choreographed camera work and flowing composition help to smoothly transition the scenes, and pull the story along at a deliberate pace. While the slowness will no doubt be frustrating to many, I found I liked it, and it does afford the viewer time to become deeply immersed in the absurd beauty of the film. There’s a lot in this film that reminds me of Wang Kar Wai, but Long Day’s Journey hits a much more somber and mysterious note. While a movie like In the Mood For Love pulls at feelings of loss and nostalgia; Long Day’s Journey Into Night takes us into a dark, almost Bardo -like setting, that unfolds into itself like the dark realms of our subconscious.

The story is circular in structure. The opening scene pictures a woman’s hand holding a microphone. We see painted fingernails and a watch on her wrist. This same broken watch will reoccur at other points throughout the film, and will be employed as a symbolic device to help tie both ends of the movie together.

Also, this will not be the only reference to fractured time. A grimy round wall clock is removed from a whitewashed wall to make way for a photographic portrait of the recently deceased father. The clock’s removal exposes the wall’s discoloration and faded paint, making a circular halo behind the portrait, turning the photo into a shrine-like ghost. The wall clock is stuck at 7:50, the next time we see this clock the hands have moved to 9:00. The third time, the clock is seen in a watery reflection as its hands appear to be being manually reset by our protagonist, Luo Hongwu.

Images of note are the frequent use of mirrors, tunnels, water and reflections. For example, though sometimes small in scale within the frame, once one begins to look for mirrors throughout the film, their placement becomes conspicuous, and like other images in the story, they carry a significant symbolic weight. Tunnels and passages, with their requisite sinister lighting, serve as transitional spaces that host or link critical encounters for the characters. Water and rain continually seeps into the story, and contributes to the dripping cave-like context of this strangely populated underworld. In fact, by reading the film in two mirror-like halves, (using the opening title as the break) you begin to notice parallels and symmetry in characters, locations, and interactions.

I knew by the middle of this film that it was going to be one of those films that moves in and sets up camp around the emotions long after you are done watching it. It carries into the rest of waking life like an unsettling experience we can’t shake off or come to terms with. The cinematography and coloration in the film is some of the best I have seen. It’s a visually compelling work, which slowly apprehends and transports into a bizarre labyrinth, and lets you follow with the camera through the strange reality it reveals. By the second half of the story we are led down a dark indeterminate path, a mineshaft, or into an abandoned prison-city where our protagonist continues to encounter increasingly mysterious situations. Two particularly arresting passages stand out. The first features an encounter with a small boy who emerges out of a dark enclosed space wearing a horned cow skull. He is a kind of keeper of secrets or person who understands how to navigate through this underworld, but the character is also likened to the minotaur residing at the center of the labyrinth. There is also the added reference/layer between this boy and that of the aborted child, believed to be a boy, fathered by our protagonist, earlier revealed to him by his lover WanQiwen. A hushed passing remark is made between them that he would have taught the boy ping pong. Well, in fact this is what he is asked to do by the boy who resides in the dark tunnel, in order to barter his way out of this maze-like surreality. The two characters bond with one another in their brief time together, and again, it is these absurd, but emotionally weighted encounters that provide the dream–like energy to this part of the story.

The second arresting passage pictures a festive carnival like event. It features a karaoke performance stage with all its colorful lights set against the murky disheveled darkness of the prison-city. In this passage the two flirtatious characters (via great camera transitions) float over the scene like disembodied ghosts, who somehow have magically taken flight by spinning the (boy’s) eagle emblazoned ping pong paddle. It’s a creepy, haunted and beautiful passage that imparts a kind of magical dimension to a scene that serves to bring two lovers together.

The last hour of this film is done in one continuous and superbly mapped out shot. It can slip by un-noticed because the transitions of place and differing shot depths are handled so poetically. With the increasing tension and strangeness of the story and its characters, the lack of visual interruption reinforces the film’s ability to transfix and lead the viewer through this dark, aesthetic maelstrom.

There is no crashing resolution to the story. The unfolding of this tale is not predicated on building up to a singular climax. The film is a descent, a submersion into an altered state, a strung together itinerary of strangely off, but deeply consequential encounters. There is a specifically poignant line in the film that sums up its cinematic /psychological position: “The difference between film and memories is that films are always false. They are composed of a series of scenes. Memory mixes truth and lies. They appear and vanish before our eyes.” Luo’s voice over provides a perfect template in which to approach some understanding of the film. Our memories, like our films are tenuous entities. Their emotional gravity can exert a strong pull on us even as we acknowledge their fragility and distortion with the passage of time.

Long Day’s Journey Into Night barters in the dark mechanical psychology of our dreams. It is embedded with the erotic tinge of past lovers who wantonly re-appear to us in the darkness of our mind’s nightly travels. As we wake from the spell, its emotional charge still lingering within us, we find we are unable to easily dismiss the ghostly imprint left behind once we have slipped away from its vivid and mysterious magnetism.

https://filmjrnl365.tumblr.com

#Gan bi #wei tang #Chloe Mayaan #long day's journey into night

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hellodimpzzworld · 4 years

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How to write an MBA admission essay using Structured Thinking approach?

Communication is one of the core aspects of being human and the ability to communicate in any form can help you in every part of your life. MBA admission essay writing is a skill that needs to be nurtured with time and it’s hard to grow.

Words are a powerful means to convey your thoughts. For an essay, the power doesn’t lie in the words you choose but the collective meaning it portrays. Most of the MBA or MIM applicants struggle to write long essays and SOPs when they are applying to global universities. After reviewing more than 500 essays, the usual trend I saw is that when the essay or the question’s word limit goes beyond 250~300 words, people struggle to think about it in a coherent way and just write anything that comes to their mind, therefore the essay loses its structure and in turn collapses. Usually, we are all busy with our day to day lives and don’t find time to think about our self or do self-reflection regularly. One of the American poets, Maya Angelou puts it perfectly –

“The real difficulty is to overcome how you think about yourself.”

All the information and things are clear and organized in our brains somewhere but it doesn’t come out in a structured way when we need to write it. Let’s explore how we can overcome this and streamline our MBA admission essay.

Subscribe for the latest videos on a variety of careers, study abroad, interview, resume, etc.

https://www.youtube.com/VikingsCareerStrategists

For anything big to stay stable, structure plays a key role and so it does in essays as well. A robust and clear structure is the foundation of writing good and meaningful essays. It helps to attain several key objectives:

Key points can stand out and stick in the mind of the readers

Reduces the time it takes to understand the story

Improves the visual appeal of the essay

Makes it easier to refer back and forth while reading

Provides flow and coherent direction to your essay

It’s fairly clear that you must attain all of the above in order for the reader to understand your essay and infer clearly what you are trying to say. Here is a method that I have devised based on my experience with MBA aspirants during the last 6 years.

There are five major steps to build the right structure for an MBA admission essay:

Raw material: Laying the ground by gathering information

Association game: placement and categorization of paragraphs

Building Blocks: creating core structures and stories

Binders: to make the essay strong and more relevant to the school

Final packaging: Define the essay and explain what’s missing to build further

Let’s dive deeper to understand them in detail so that we can craft a perfect MBA admission essay:

Raw material: Laying the ground by gathering information

Start writing the points that you would like to cover in your essays.

Points should be made for each part

Questions in the essay that need to be addressed

Examples that you want to give (with learning)

Your achievements or awards

Qualities/skills that you want to highlight from this essay

Activities, programs, clubs, immersions, exchange schools, electives, etc. for that school

List down all the points for each part that come to your mind. Also, don’t list everything in one go. Make a list, then keep adding and re-iterating to build it further until you are satisfied. It’s hard to remember everything when you are forcing your mind at one time, sometimes things come to your mind later or any other time while you are doing something else. Make a list on your phone using any notes app that can be synced across devices like OneNote and keep adding anytime something comes to your mind.

Game of associations: Linking different materials together

This will help you to find your segments or chunks that will have their own story to tell. You would have done matching the columns at every stage of your life whether it was a primary school, high school, college, or any other education. It shouldn’t be difficult!

Write down the points in these 5 columns and then start associating the first four columns with each other. Check what falls where and how they are linked. You will be surprised to see that things will start falling in place smoothly and you will have a few stories come out of it. Remember that only for the first column (column a: questions that need to be addressed), every value should be associated with at least one element from other columns. The reason being, we just cannot leave any point from the question unanswered. Once you have the associations done, construct the chunks or blocks individually to have your stories. These are your core blocks.

Building blocks: Creating core blocks and structures

Now you have the pieces to a puzzle that needs to be solved and assembled correctly to paint the right picture of your profile. If you put or place them wrongly, the right picture cannot be visualized. Now, these core blocks need some cement and layers to stick them together to form the structure. You would have done sequence questions in GMAT where you need to arrange the order of sentences. Though there can be multiple options that would make sense, you need to find the perfect flow. So start testing out with combinations and see which one fits perfectly.

While you are doing these combinations, pay close attention to the layering among the blocks. The flow between these blocks or paragraphs should be seamless and there shouldn’t be any abruptness. Each paragraph should naturally lead to the other story. While in some cases it might be really hard to do, try to use superficial simple connectors in that case, which means just stating a line at the end of the previous paragraph which talks about what’s coming next. This can be done maybe 1 or maximum 2 times, the rest of the time, the flow should be smooth.

Once you have done that, you have the core of your essay ready.

Binders: Adding binders to make the essay strong and relevant

Binders are something that will make the essay structure stronger, personalized, and relevant to what is being asked implicitly. This will come from your 5th column. You don’t need to use all the things that you listed in the column, just use the ones which work best and gel well with the blocks. Implicitly, the school also wants to know how they can fit your story or how the MBA experience at that specific school would be of help to you. And, more importantly, how you can be of help to the school as well. Binders are things like attaching different aspects of the school in your stories and chunks. Find the relevant one from your binder list and sprinkle them at the right places. And then be bold, honest, and dream big to build on to them further. Don’t get disheartened if you cannot find enough information from the school website or the alumni. Make assumptions based on your knowledge and research and suggest what you think. But don’t just do it without research, do as much as you can and then assume what you cannot find. The Adcoms are looking for passion, intent, and purpose rather than specific details. This is the area where you can think freely.

Final Packaging: Giving a preface and a forward-looking end

After your core is ready, it’s very important to package it properly and use the right philosophy to explain the story. What this means is a very strong and coherent introduction and a forward-looking ending. Think of the introduction as the foundation of the structure. This should lay the background of what’s coming in the essay. The introduction should create interest, provide a preface, and paint the backdrop of your story.

Lastly, the ending is something that is on top of your structure and it should be something that is open and forward-looking. Basically, the idea to portray is that you can build on further on this structure and it’s not the end. Your structure is in the making and you are open to absorb more things to build it further which are an MBA course, different career post MBA, experiences that you will have during and after the MBA. So, keep your ending forward-looking and open for absorption. Basically, this will allow you to show your story in a way that an MBA and your post-MBA plans are the pieces that you are looking for.

These were the 5 steps you can take to structure your MBA admission essay for any applications. If you take this approach and practice it over time with different applications and in any other aspects of your life as well, it would help you to develop your thinking ability.

Structuring your thoughts is key in communication whether you are delivering an essay, a presentation or just explaining any situation. It helps the other person to easily visualize what you are trying to say. This is my tip, if you are applying to schools, you are probably going to write more than 15–20 essays or questions, so why not develop a skill along with. Structured thinking is one of the aspects of writing essays, there are multiple other aspects to explore like visualization, storytelling, personalization, etc. but definitely it is the starting and most crucial step.

For further information please visit: https://vikingscareerstrategists.com/

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confessionary77 · 4 years

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‘I Should Have Remembered Them The Way They Were’

The past should be left alone. Re-visiting the best of memories will only ruin them.

Steven learned that on his own when he returned to his childhood hometown and was swept into the life he thought he left behind.

I spoke to an old friend recently and would like to share his story. However, he asked me to make sure he won’t be identified by what I wrote. It’s not as if he shared deep secrets or anything like it, but he rather likes his privacy and peace. Despite my opinion that there’s nothing to hide, I vowed to conceal anything that can eventually point at him. Names and some identifying characteristics therefore had to be changed.

— — —

Steven left his home when he was barely over 20. The country of his youth had just been through a war and emerged scarred, battered and radicalized. As Steven's dreams and plans expanded, his surroundings shrunk, metaphorically, until his future could no longer fit into the limited mould the country was shaping into. He packed his bags, said his farewells and left, leaving behind everything and everyone he knew.

Steven was a gifted wrestler, a middleweight national champion. His wrestling days started when he was eight and naturally all the friends of his youth hailed from the wrestling club. For years they were inseparable—they not only trained together, they also travelled across the continent for competitions and events; they focused their education on sports, went through the same schools and as result spent most of their waking time together. They studied together, partied together, vacationed together, trained together. They knew each other better than parents ever could. Then, three years before he left, Steven suffered a back injury which sidelined him from competition for a few months. When he healed and returned to wrestling, he realized he lost the killer drive that made him a champion, and took up coaching. He spent more times with his pupils than his old teammates, but although it loosened the tight bond they had, their friendship endured in a more mature, less intense form.

When he landed at his new home an ocean away, they kept in touch. Phone calls were expensive back then, the internet was still very young, but emails flew back and forth. His friends wanted to know everything—what was the weather like, how the life there differed from theirs, what are the girls like... Questions were flying thick and fast, emails piling up in his inbox faster than he could reply to them. It was almost as good as having them around. Then, within months, the questions became rarer, the responses to his emails terse and long in coming, until in the second year of his new life they tapered into nothing. Steven was hurt, of course, when his emails went unanswered. But, most of all, he was lonely. Building life in a new country takes great toll and having no one to share the challenges and soothe disappointments was hard. Drawing on the strength of will that made him a champion, he reminded himself that it was his decision to move away. He understood that his mates had their lives, their daily routines, problems and celebrations which didn't involve him any longer. In a way, cutting loose that particular thread of his previous life made him finally immerse himself into his new reality. He found a good job in a good media company and grew with it.

On personal side a girl emerged to help him build dreams. And, using those dreams as blueprint, they built their life together. His wrestling days and wrestling friends became just a story told on late evenings after the second glass of wine. The edges of that story, just like their faces in his memory, got blurred, softer, less real, until, just like the emails all those years earlier, they faded into nothingness.

Life took Steven as far away from wrestling as it was possible to go; he worked an office job dealing with the new media. The only sport he practiced was semi-regular running by himself when he had time or felt like it. That new media programming turned out to be lucrative enough so that at the age of 50 he was ready to retire. His and wife's careful planning made it possible to move back to Steven's childhood town where living was cheaper and their savings would stretch much further.

That's the long background story Steven shared one boozy evening. He was bothered by something, and although we weren't all that close, the conversation rolled smoothly and a minor life's lesson emerged.

"One day," Steven told me, "while out and about finishing some chores, I ran into an old wrestling coach of mine. We were both genuinely happy to see each other. We sat for a while at a cafe catching up, but both of us were busy rushing somewhere, so we exchanged phone numbers and promised to get together and unravel everything that happened in our lives in the last three decades. We hugged, laughed and separated, looking forward to meet again. We have been in touch over the phone once or twice since, but there was always something that made it inconvenient to meet. That same day, or maybe a day after, the coach ran into one of my old wrestling teammates. I imagine he went 'You won't believe whom I met...' and told him about me. That teammate was always known for his curiosity and gossip he liked to share with everyone. He quickly got busy, called the rest of the team to share the news. They still kept in touch and most of them were still involved in or around wrestling. I started getting phone calls from ghosts from the past, all eager to hear something I haven't told the others, so they can compare notes. Those conversations were stunted, riddled with awkward moments and pauses, but it didn't seem to bother them. They all wanted to meet me. Some invited me to a wrestling training."

"Before I left the country I was like them—blunt, chatty, curious. But through time I grew to be more politely distant, less eager to know things that aren't my business and averse to gossip. Wrestling was something I did in my youth. At the time it probably was the most important thing in my life. However, in the past two decades I don't know if I even thought about it, let alone mentioned it. It became as distant for me as the first children's picture-book I read; I vaguely remembered it, but had no desire to revisit it. Those guys, my former teammates, they seemed frozen in the past. They still plotted and schemed against other clubs and wrestlers, their jargon was still the same, their jokes as crude and insulting. To their invitations to the club I kept replying with 'will see,' 'can't right now,' 'too busy,' maybe next time...' I mean, everybody at his right mind would get it—I wasn't into it. And, maybe they did get it, but still wanted to make me say it out loud. So I did, I finally told them that I haven't been near a wrestling mat for 30 years and I still don't miss it, so I would like to keep it that way and keep myself away."

"When that was finally sorted out, they changed the tack. I got a call from Ned. Ned was my sparing partner in the days of my best results. We went to school together and hung out together; we were practically inseparable for four years. He was a brother I never had. Naturally, when he called, I wanted to see him. Not to pick up where we left off—I knew that was impossible—but to see how he's doing and what he made of his life. We went for a drink, him and wife and me and mine. I was around when he met his wife and knew both of them quite well, but I've never seen his two sons. Ned used to be tall, lanky with head full of unruly blond curls girls were crazy about. Ned whom I met now was a prematurely aged bold guy with torso too wide for his long limbs. He spoke like the 16-year-old Ned I remember, and that maybe more than anything else, felt so weird. It seemed that, except the physical change, not much else has changed about him. Nad had forgotten to grow up. While the wives politely tried (and failed, I'll learn later) to find something common to talk about, Ned gabbed about his sons' extreme talent for wrestling. I smiled politely and tried to nod at appropriate places, hoping he'll think that I care. When we finally managed to talk about our lives, the brief sketches of all that happened since I went away, it exposed the gulf so broad and so deep that no amount of small talk could bridge it. Ned was still involved in wrestling, professionally, as a high administrator for the national association. His wife who was just getting into car sales business when I left, was now a senior manager in a dealership. Their life-paths followed the pre-set trajectory. They are now a few steps higher on the same ladder they started climbing back then."

"I, on the other hand, was doing something so completely unrelated and so utterly foreign to them that they couldn't comprehend what I was talking about when I tried to explain. I got an impression they thought it a failure that I did something other than wrestling. After a few minutes there was nothing to talk about. Of course, I could have feigned interest and asked again about his kids' training, which would undoubtedly unleash another tirade of boastful tales, but I could muster no strength for it. When we came home, wife said 'so, that was Ned! I imagined him completely different.' She hit the nail on the head—I, too, remembered him different. Suddenly, I felt a terrible loss. It was as if Ned was a shiny happy memory kept in a special gallery of my mind's archive. He was forever young, forever shy, funny, witty kid with a talent for wrestling and a charming conversation that so smoothly blended with my own. Together, we were a power-pair people wanted to be around. This new-old Ned tainted that picture forever and I was furious with myself for allowing it."

"After meeting Ned, I stopped taking the calls from the gang. Slowly, they tapered off. They taught me a really important lesson: never tried to re-live the memories, they can never live up to the image in your head. All the people I knew from my past are now strangers with whom I have nothing in common. Meeting them only serves the purpose of comparing who aged more gracefully. Keep the memory of your youth precious and NEVER try to reconnect with people you lost touch with. If they were meant to stay in your life, they would have been there all along. Instead, it's like re-reading that old picture-book, one can't help but find it inadequate, lame and strange."

#creative writing #writing #non-fiction #wrestling #wrestlers #short story #storytelling #writers #write #amwriting #writing life #writeblr #writers community #writing community #writers on tumblr

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duckydae · 6 years

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This is a new series where I take one of my favourite fanfics and write an in-depth review on it.

Title: Black Pearl

Author: EXO-Dreamer

Length: 32 Chapters

Paring: Byun Baekhyun x OC x Do Kyungsoo

AU: Pirate

Status: Completed

Find it: (Here)

Premise: “The old tales speak of a notorious pirate that once sailed as the captain of EXO. They say that when he wasn't searching for hold, he was often found in the bed of women or single-handedly taking down a whole ship on his own. Legends say that it is Byun Baekhyun whose name robbed men curse under their breath, the name their wives desperately scream at night, and the name they say the sea calls its master.

But one fateful day when the boat is attacked along the marine, and all seems for naught, a stranger brings Baekhyun safely back to shore. Before the ship captain fully gains consciousness to see his saviour, he can only see a glimpse of her wavy black hair and the black jewel around her neck before she escapes without a trace into the ocean.”

Black Pearl is single-handedly one of the most immersive pieces of fiction you will ever read, despite the fact it is fan-fiction and Disney would kill us if we ever placed it above their so-called masterpiece of a series that is the ‘Pirates of the Caribbean’ franchise. Let’s face it, it isn’t so much of a movie than watching Johnny Depp play, Johnny Depp.

But this, this is a whole new level. Honestly, skip the films and dive straight into this beast of a story – yes, pun intended. The story of the Black Pearl is based on multiple different pieces of media that has been tied rather smoothly into one entity. The first naturally being EXO’s, Black Pearl from their album Exodus, but you knew that. The second being, Hans Christian Andersen’s, The Little Mermaid and finally, The Princess Bride – which I actually didn’t know until I revisited the foreword.

What makes it so good you ask? EXO-Dreamer’s world-building is mind-blowing. Every nook and cranny explored to its absolute fullest, which allows you to feel not only for the three centred protagonists but also be severely involved the others surrounding them which then leads into her fantastic use of characterisation. But, back to the setting. I’m not going to lie to you guys, I haven’t re-read this in a while so my knowledge isn’t to its absolute fullest because I just don’t have that much time anymore – oh, to be in High School again but I’ll try my best. To take an educated guess, this is probably post-golden age, based on a character in the sequel. Like, during the tiny sweet-spot just before it started to die-out, along everyone else for that matter because Cholera was oh-so rampant, especially among my people – manky water.

This story was a collection of things I love the most, so it was hard for me to turn away. I’m a history buff and my preferred area of expertise is the golden-age of piracy – love me some Anne Bonny not, only that but as a Baekhyun story. You mean the cheeky son of a bitch that is constantly neck and neck with dear old Kyungsoo? Sign me the fuck up. The icing on the cake was really just the Mermaid storyline, Ariel has been my favourite princess for as long as I can remember – No shade Merida but like, she’s got the hottest prince and you’ve just got my accent. There’re also a few little other details but I won’t dive into spoilers, just yet.

So, world-building, I don’t know about you guys, but I personally pictured this quaint little Island with a village-like aesthetic and I was loving every second of it. If you’ve ever watched Black Sails or played either Black Flag or Uncharted 4 you’ll know what I mean.

To jump into my favourite thing about this thing is the characterisation.

I’m actually not going to start with the two leads, because unsurprisingly they aren’t my favourites – I know it’s like my heart wants to harm itself. To start off, I’m going to jump into Yixing’s character, who is the designated socialite and knows everything about everyone – that’s why his hair is so big. It’s full of secrets. Yixing’s character, the more I saw of him the more endearing he became. Every witty comeback, every sly gesture to say I was #livingforit would be an understatement. I just picture this savvy guy parading around with a bunch of mischievous, filthy pirates, similar to a Korean mother in a drama would drag around her idiotic sons. His relationship with Baekhyun in particular is fascinating, Yixing seems to be one of few who can truly tame the crazy that is Byun Baekhyun.

This isn’t really them individually but rather as a unit, Jinjoo’s sisters were amazing. You could really tell the author really did create solid personalities for each-one and the way they protected their youngest sister played off well against the pirate crew. If I had to pick my favourites would be Sun-Hee and Krystal. Also, the set-up that they essentially ran their own tavern/brothel? – is it, I vaguely remember – was so refreshing. Funnily enough historically accurate, well sort of. Things like that were common in the Wild West for women to basically run the economy off the back of prostitution.

Okay, so cranking it up a little more I’m going to tackle Kyungsoo, which for me it is difficult – as I am currently reading through the sequel and my god does this scallywag get an upgrade, so my opinion on him heavily differs. Kyungsoo wasn’t a huge interest for me, I’d seen his archetype countless times before, so I knew what the gang were getting themselves into and if it came down to the wire, it would be Baekhyun that gets the girl. Kyungsoo in book one is just too pure for this harsh world but his friendship with Jinjoo was sweet. Buckle up boys, just wait until you read number two. Like fucking swoon alert, EXO-Dreamer resurrected my love for dark Soo and I am loving every second of it.

Before I get to Baekhyun and Jinjoo, I’m going to pick-apart something that I’ve never really noticed anyone do. Cameo’s, Cameo’s are rampant in stories like this and sometimes the work sometimes they don’t, but I really have to commend the author for getting it so damn right. Particularly in book two but here, the insertion of BoA was genius considering what she represents in real life within the K-Pop community. I’ll not spoil any of them but I legit screamed when I read two particularly cameos in book two. The names don’t feel shoehorned in, unlike most. What I’ve noticed is that most stories have them for the sake of having a cameo – similar to films. But in this it truly feels that a character was needed so let’s look through the rolodex of stars and see what actually fits the story’s need.

Okay, time to tackle the OC. Honestly, I really like Jinjoo. It’s not often I can read an OC that has agency, god I struggle with it all the damn time but seriously this one is so elegantly written and flesh out so well. Who knew a girl could have more than one emotion at a time! Her relationship with Luhan and her sisters is by far my favourite, particularly with Krystal.

Baekhyun, ho, Baekie what have you done to me. I love this depiction of Baekhyun, is it the most faithful thing, no. Nothing is, but to say he wasn’t the least bit entertaining would be a flat out lie. Like this guy is Sparrow on acid, what I will say reading his sections with Jinjoo really took me back to my Hetalia days; we don’t talk about that any more. Baek was very Arthur-esque and I loved every second on of it. Sure, he starts of as that classic charismatic fuckboi we are warned about and you better believe he’s still that at the end, even so the captain gets a solid glo-up.

Plot? Was it predictable, no, not entirely but like they say; “It’s the journey, not the destination.” And it’s the journey I sign-up for. Personally, I do prefer the sequel, but I think that’s just because I’ve seen these characters grow, particularly Baekhyun and Kyungsoo.

Finally, what about the rest of our boys, well they’re there and they even get to shine too! Some more than others but I distinctly remember crying at one of Jongin’s side-plot rather than the main trios.

To close up I highly recommend this story to whoever just wants to throw themselves into something and feeeeel… because trust me hun, you will.

I will do El Dorado when it has been completed.

Next: One Of Us.

#exo #byun baekhyun #exo fic recs #pirates #do kyunsoo #lu han #zhang yixing #wu yifan #suho #kim jongin #kim jongdae #kpop fic recs #kim minseok #huang zitao #Park Chanyeol #oh sehun

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meerkatandthesloth · 2 years

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A match made in heaven

When I fist met the sloth, I did not like her. She started riding the same pony I was riding at the time and considered mine, for the simple reason that I had been there first. She was doing it wrong, too, in my opinion. I must have been around eight at the time.

Our mom’s horses lived at the same barn, so we saw each other there several times a week. With time, I got over my pony-related issues and became friends with the sloth´s big sister. She was closer to my own age, as the sloth is four years my junior. That´s a big age gap when you´re a kid. The sister and I, however, are very different people. We didn´t have a lot in common, and the friendship didn´t last. It served a larger purpose though, because I got to better know the sloth. And as it turned out, we were exactly the same. Not in every way, but in some ways that truly matter.

We were - are - fangirls. In the sense that we can completely lose ourselves in fantasy worlds. We could spend hours talking about Lord of the Rings or Naruto. We would go for long rides and spend the whole time imagining ourselves living in Middle Earth or Konoha, what we would do there, who we would meet and be friends with. We´d think up stories together of ourselves, living there with our heroes. A common way to escape from reality, psychologists might say. And one that did both of us some good when reality was hard. But also a way to immerse ourselves in the questions of good and bad, of right and wrong, of the value of life, sacrifice and forgiveness.

This may seem silly to you. It seems silly to many people, which is part of the problem we have. But if all involved parties think a story is important, it doesn´t matter if it´s based on actual events or fantasy. If you take it seriously, it can be used to explore the great questions in life and it can teach you a lot about yourself and the person you´re talking to. It did so for us, in any case. We know each other better than we know anyone else or that anyone else knows us, and that´s quite a wonderful thing to base a friendship on.

This is not the only thing we have in common, of course. Also, our joint path does not run smoothly. We both have to work hard to make ourselves a place in the world. Sometimes, we can give each other help, or support and solidarity. Other times, when we have barely enough energy to hold on, we leave each other hanging. We have had big falling outs over the years. More on that in a later post. But to this day, we have survived every crisis. An I hope very much that we will survive all the ones yet to come.

This friendship is extraordinary. Finding a person like that, weird in the same way I am, is one of the best things that ever happened to me. If you don´t quite fit in, if you are weird or different, and if you think the world is a strange place that doesn’t really suite you, I hope you have a friend like the sloth, who can show you that you´re not the only one. Because you´re not, and reminding yourself of that can help sometimes, even just a little bit.

Also, a friend like the sloth can show you how being weird can be a good thing. It gives you lots of reasons to laugh, even if it’s often about yourself. It makes the world a bigger place, more interesting. And it can help you find the best of friends. That’s something, isn’t it?

- weird always, meerkat

#friends #friendship #my person #fangirl #fandom #lord of the rings #naruto #weird #weirdo #fantasy #meerkat #sloth

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raywritesthings · 7 years

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She Makes Him Laugh

My Writing Fandom: Doctor Who Characters: Wilfred Mott, Donna Noble, Tenth Doctor Pairing: Doctor/Donna Summary: Donna and the Doctor bring back a present for Wilf. AO3 link

Wilfred Mott was woken from a light doze one late afternoon by the strangest sound he’d heard in his life. A sort of wheezing and groaning that would’ve had anyone taking their car down to the mechanic’s in a fright. He sat up, startled, in his chair — Sylvia was always saying he should just go to bed, but he never meant to fall asleep and anyway his back never minded it too much — and looked about blearily.

The noises had stopped, so he got himself on his feet and shuffled to the front door. A glance up and down the block didn’t reveal anything immediate. He wandered out onto the path all the same.

Then distantly, he heard a new sound. A faint, high pitched whirr. It was coming from the back! Quickly, Wilf turned and cut through the house out to the back door. There was nothing there either, but when he looked up the hill—

“Oh!” Wilf said to himself quietly. There it was, the blue box! And there was his granddaughter and that alien Doctor of hers. Wilf hurried up the hill as fast as he could.

Long before he approached he could hear the two of them talking.

“You’re sure you know what you’re doing?”

“Course I do, Donna. You’ve seen me take apart and reassemble more complicated things than this.”

“Yeah, but this is important.”

“So was the missile defense system on Fanfarna.”

“It’s special then. You’ve no idea how much my mum and dad spent on this. Gramps would be heartbroken.”

“And Sylvia would be furious, I’m sure.”

“Oi! We can’t all go around sonicing cash machines and breaking the Bank of England!”

“I’ve never broken the Bank of England! Well, I have broken in, but in fairness my judgement was severely impaired at the time.”

“You what?”

“Long story. Point is, I will not break this telescope and bankrupt the entire Noble-Mott family. Don’t you trust me?”

“Seriously wondering right about now.”

“Donnaaa.”

“Fine, yes! I trust you. Happy?”

“Brilliant!”

He crested the hill just in time to see the Doctor grinning broadly up at Donna from where he was crouched down by his telescope. They’d gotten it out of the shed he kept it locked in somehow, and his granddaughter had been hovering beside it protectively. Now she backed up, though her doing so allowed the alien to catch sight of him.

“Oh, Wilfred! Hello!”

Donna whirled about. “There goes surprising him. Hey, Gramps!”

“I’d say this is a surprise all on its own, you two turning up,” he remarked, embracing his granddaughter. “Hey! What’s brought you back here, then? Taking a break from all them aliens and planets?”

“Yeah, bit of one. How’ve you and mum been?”

“Oh, just fine,” he dismissed. “Nothing to report. Not anything exciting as what you’ve got, eh?” He looked eagerly between them. “You could come down to the house, have a cuppa. What’s all this about then?” He gestured to his telescope still standing between the pair.

It was only now that he noticed the Doctor holding a strange silver instrument with a blue tip in one hand. “Just a bit of tinkering. Nothing to worry about, Wilf. You’re getting an upgrade.”

“Upgrade?”

“We were on this rest stop for a sort of space highway,” Donna explained. “Rocketships, the proper kind, that sort of thing. He skips all that normally.”

“And a good thing, too. The traffic’s murder,” the Doctor remarked, hitting a button on his device that made the same whirring noise Wilfred had heard earlier. It glowed and he watched in fascination as the screws of his telescope undid themselves and fell one by one into his open palm.

“Anyway,” Donna continued smoothly over the alien, “they were selling these telescopes for real cheap. I thought it’d be wizard if I could bring you back one of those. You’d be able to see all sorts of stuff from right here! This one,” she said, indicating the Doctor with a tilt of the head, “said I couldn’t do that, though.”

“It’s dangerous to introduce future technology to the past, Donna,” the Doctor rattled off without even looking up from his work.

She’d clearly anticipated his response, for she didn’t even bat an eye before saying, “I hardly knew you half an hour before you were giving me stuff.”

The Doctor glanced at her for a moment. “Just the ring.”

“He gave you a ring?” Wilf asked with interest, the first he’d been able to cut into their seamless back-and-forth.

Donna blanched. “Not like that. It was a bio-damper-thing, for the wedding.”

“The wedding?”

“My wedding. The one at Christmas,” she elaborated to his slight disappointment.

"Wasn't exactly a wedding, as it turned out," the Doctor muttered, grinning as Donna leveled him with a glare that would've had most men running for cover.

Sylvia had said she’d seen the Doctor there. Wilf still didn’t know the whole story, but it was shaping up to be a rather good one from the sounds of it!

“Alright,” he agreed. “So what does this have to do with the telescope I’ve got? It’s just fine, really.” The Doctor had made quick work of disassembling it in front of his eyes, and while he trusted this man to take care of his granddaughter he couldn’t help a slight apprehension over his most prized possession.

“Fine, I suppose, for the twenty-first century,” the Doctor allowed. “But you’ve seen all it could show you on its own and you know there’s more out there, don’t you, Wilf? An astronomer like you! Just isn’t right for you to be limited.”

“Will you get on with it?” Donna requested, prodding the alien in the shoulder. She was smiling all the while though, and kept looking to Wilf eagerly.

The Doctor obliged her. “The reason it’s a bad idea to introduce future tech into the past is the risk that it might fall into the wrong hands. Alter the timeline, erase the future events that led to its creation in the first place — wham! Big paradox.” The alien paused his tinkering to address him directly. “But Donna reckons you can be trusted, Wilfred Mott, and I trust Donna Noble’s judgement more than most things in the universe.”

“Whatever it is, Doctor, I wouldn’t dream of letting someone else get ahold of it,” he assured, standing up just a little straighter.

“And that’s the plan!” The alien took something out of his pocket. It looked like a pair of tiny mirrors. “I’m building the future technology into your telescope. Outside casing will look exactly the same to the casual observer. We’ll be the only ones who know the difference.” He winked up at Donna, then hefted the telescope into his arms. “Should have it done before nightfall, and then you can give it a go.”

“Oh, well, that's wonderful! Thank you, Doctor.”

“Don’t go thanking him yet. Let’s see if it works first,” Donna cautioned.

“I told you I’ve built things a hundred times more complex than this, Donna!” The Doctor insisted in an injured tone.

“He’s told me only about a hundred times, too,” she quipped. “Might as well have that cuppa while we wait. I’ve got so much to tell you. Oi, Spaceman, you want any?” His granddaughter called over her shoulder as she led him back down the hill.

“Oh yes,” replied the Doctor, re-immersed in the telescope parts.

“Yes what?”

“Please. And don't forget to tell him about the Kravani! You were brilliant with them.”

“I’ll get to it when I get to it.” Donna shook her head. They entered the kitchen and she set to work starting the kettle and pulling mugs down from the cupboard. She also fetched the sugar, which neither of them took — he used to, but Sylvia said it wasn't good for his health and she always made such a fuss.

“So the Kravani, was it?”

“It’s been two weeks since then. Honestly, he never shuts up about it, I swear.” She glanced at Wilf and her lips quirked in bemusement. “What are you smiling about?”

“Oh, just happy you’re home, sweetheart,” he answered.

“Sure. You were the one saying to go off and see the universe,” she reminded shrewdly.

“Well a visit in between every now and then can’t hurt.”

“No,” she agreed with a smile. “So, let me think. What did I tell you about last?”

“There was that planet with the- the Odd fellas or something, I think.”

“Ood. Yeah, that sounds right.”

She launched back into the fantastic stories of her travels. Planets, Agatha Christie, half-fish people. It all sounded so marvellous, and he was thrilled to know it was his granddaughter experiencing it of all people with that Doctor of hers. The way she spoke about him — dazzling, she’d called him the last time, and that clearly hadn’t changed. And from the little Wilfred had been able to observe of the Doctor thus far, it seemed a very mutual feeling.

The kettle boiled and then Donna was busying herself with the tea. She used a liberal amount of sugar for the third mug, stirring it in as she continued to talk, then left it to cool on the counter while bringing his and hers to the table.

“And that about covers it, I think,” she said eventually. Then she glanced to the counter at the third mug, which was no longer steaming quite as much. “That’s probably done.” She stood and stuck her head out the back door. “Doctor! Tea’s ready.”

He heard footfalls on the hill and then Donna was letting the alien past her into the kitchen. “Nearly finished. Just one or two tweaks and then it should be good as new. Better, actually!”

“Oh, it could’ve waited, really. I meant to tell Donna she ought to call you down sooner, but she was just telling me all the wonderful things you two have been doing out there.”

“Nah, it’s for his own good. He never lets it cool on his own. Burns his tongue every time,” Donna informed him, rolling her eyes with a look caught somewhere between fond and exasperated.

“Guilty as charged,” said the Doctor, who had just taken an incredibly large gulp from his mug. He smacked his lips together. “So, ready to see some new planets?”

“Well I suppose I better be!” Wilfred remarked with a chuckle. Donna smiled, looking between him and the alien. He stood, dropping his mug off in the sink on the way. “Will there be aliens on them?”

“Some,” the Doctor answered.

“How about those whatsit, potato people?”

“Sonteran,” Donna helped him.

“Sontaran, Donna,” the Doctor corrected automatically. He looked more amused than anything at what appeared to be an old argument. “And no, their planet is far away from this galaxy. Fortunately.” He drained the rest of his mug and then was leading their little group all back up the hill. He'd grabbed Donna's hand so she walked along at his side, and Wilf brought up the rear.

Wilfred settled himself in his chair, waiting as the Doctor fiddled a few moments more with the telescope. It was completely dark by the time he and Donna placed it in front of him.

“Controls are all the same. Now, just to give you an idea of what she can do, I think I’ll pick out the first planet.” The alien looked through it and slowly adjusted where it was pointed to until stopping suddenly. “Oh yes! That’s a good one. What do you think?”

He’d asked Wilf’s granddaughter knelt beside him and motioned Donna forward, holding the telescope steady as she leaned in close for a look.

“It’s gorgeous! Which one is that?”

“Well, the name’s a bit tricky. It’s officially part of the Trappist-1 system, a dwarf star in the constellation Aquarius discovered by humanity right at the turn of the century. They won’t spot the exoplanets till a bit into your future. This one was originally named Trappist-f, but there was a Twitter poll and, well, things got ugly.”

Donna looked away from the telescope and to the Doctor quizzically. “Twitter?”

“Oh, right. It’s only just got started, hasn’t completely taken off yet. That’s in your future, too.” He grinned at her, and Donna grinned right back. The two of them burst into laughter. He'd never seen Donna so carelessly happy before, and the Doctor, well, there was nothing but joy in his expression as he looked at her and laughed.

One of his hands was resting on the small of Donna’s back.

As if sensing Wilf’s eyes, the Doctor looked round and his hand was quickly snatched away. “Er, but why don’t we let Wilfred see for himself?” Donna also turned in his direction, shifting back from the Doctor and looking a little red in the face to him, even in the dark.

“Yeah, Gramps, give it a go,” she urged quickly. “Here we are hogging your telescope. Not like we can’t just have a look at it ourselves later up close.”

“Oh, I don’t mind. Nothing quite like stargazing sometimes,” he said, leaning forward in his chair. He thought to mention its rather romantic nature, but decided that might be showing his hand a little much.

Then he’d put his eye to the telescope and forgot nearly everything else.

“Oh. Oh!” He’d certainly never seen anything quite like this planet before. And certainly never so clear. “That’s an alien planet?”

“Uninhabited right now, actually. What’s exciting about it is that it and its fellows are terrestrial, and three of them fall within the habitable zone.”

“Habitable for us?” He looked to the Doctor and got a nod. “So we might get there someday?”

“Oh, humans,” the alien gave a fond shake of the head, “you lot will get everywhere.”

“He’s not kidding. I’ve seen it,” Donna added. “All across the universe.”

“Amazing,” breathed Wilf. “Just amazing.” He went back to looking through the telescope, hardly able to believe what he was seeing. Yet the Doctor and Donna were the living, breathing proof. The things they’d seen, this was only a fraction.

All three were startled by the sound of a car door slamming around the other side of the house.

“That’ll be mum,” Donna realized.

“You two better be off, then,” said Wilf. He was sad to see them go, even if it meant his Donna was getting back out there and seeing the stars with her Doctor at her side. “Stop by whenever you’ve got some more stories.”

He stood to hug Donna, who murmured in his ear, “We will.”

The Doctor returned his salute with a nod. “Wilfred, always a pleasure.”

“And you, Doctor. Thank you.”

He shook his head. “Thank Donna. All her idea, and a rather brilliant one as always, I’d say.”

The alien looked at her for a moment, and it was clear to even a human like Wilf the emotion on his face. Then he ducked his head and stepped into his box.

Donna lingered. “Listen, just tell mum I said hello, I suppose.”

“I will,” he promised. “Oh, Donna?”

She’d half-turned towards the blue box herself, but looked back round. “Yeah, Gramps?”

“That ring the Doctor gave you — he ever ask for it back?”

Donna tensed. “No. Why?”

Wilfred affected a shrug. “No reason,” he said lightly.

A frown appeared on her face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, I may not know much about alien blokes, but when a man gives you a ring—”

“Oh, don’t you start,” she warned. “We are not together.”

“Donna?” The Doctor called from inside the ship. “Everything alright?”

“Coming!” She lowered her voice again and said, “Seriously, not even close.”

“If you say so, sweetheart.”

She watched him through narrowed eyes for a moment. “I’ll come round soon as I can,” she eventually stated. “See you, Gramps.”

“Go see those stars!”

She cracked a smile again, then was walking through the doors of the Doctor’s ship to rejoin her alien. Wilfred backed up a couple steps as that wheezing and groaning he’d first heard began anew, and the ship slowly faded away from sight. He let out a laugh. How marvellous!

The back door opened moments later. “Dad, are you up there on the hill? What was that racket?”

“No idea,” he answered. “Must have been one of the neighbors or something.”

“And what are all these mugs doing in the sink? Did you have company?” Sylvia demanded.

Wilfred smiled to himself. “Don’t you worry about that, love. I’ll do the washing up.” He looked back to his newly improved telescope and then up to the stars. Maybe some night he’d be gazing up at all those undiscovered planets and see a little blue box and the wonderful couple — whether they knew it or not — that traveled in it.

“Just give us a few,” he called down.

#ten x donna #doctor x donna #wilfred mott #donna noble #tenth doctor #the doctor #doctor who #my writing

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immedtech · 7 years

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'My Brother's Keeper' uses new VR tech to reenact the Civil War

A story about two estranged brothers facing off on a Civil War battlefield might seem like a strange fit for a virtual reality film, but My Brother's Keeper isn't your typical VR movie. The PBS film, which premiered at Sundance last week, uses its period setting to show off several new filmmaking techniques, including the first 120FPS slow motion recording in VR and the use of a customized action camera rig. But most importantly, it uses all of that technical wizardry to craft a genuinely moving story.

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My Brother's Keeper is set around the battle of Antietam, which is notorious for being the deadliest single-day fight in American history. Amid the conflict -- which involves over 150 Civil War re-enactors -- the two brothers find themselves on opposite sides of the fight. At a short running time of just nine minutes, we only get glimpses at their lives, but they're enough to make an emotional impact. The film, which was written and directed by Connor Hair and Alex Meader and produced by StoryTech Immersive and Perception Squared together with the Technicolor Experience Center, is also partially inspired by the PBS Civil War series Mercy Street.

"We are witnessing the birth of a new medium, so there is a lot for us to learn and invent at every point in the process; from pre-production, production, post-production and distribution, there is a lot of innovation happening," PBS producer Don Wilcox said in an email to Engadget. "Hardware continues to improve, capabilities expand, and shooting and editing techniques continue to mature. One thing that will help us over time is the development of standard formats -- today just about every platform has its own requirements, which creates extra work and inconsistency in what viewers ultimately see, depending on their device."

There's no shortage of ways to view My Brother's Keeper. It's available on just about every VR video platform, including YouTube, Facebook, VivePort (for HTC's Vive), Oculus Rift and Samsung Video for the Gear VR. You can also view it in standard 2D 360-degree video on YouTube and Facebook, but those options only match a fraction of the experience. With a VR headset, you get a full stereoscopic 3D view of the film, which offers much more depth and clarity than the flat version.

Based on the VR films I've seen so far -- which includes Obama's ode to Yosemite and his farewell tour of the White House -- there's little reason to watch one that isn't rendered in 3D. The whole point of strapping on a VR headset is to achieve a sense of "presence," the idea that you're transported somewhere else and watching it in person. That's a tough sensation to convey when you're just watching a 2D video wrapped around your eyes. In My Brother's Keeper, the 3D filming was particularly striking in its long shots of wheat fields and battle scenes, as well as closeups of the lead actors.

As for the new things the film brings to the table, I particularly enjoyed its implementation of slow motion. The filmmakers were the first to use Jaunt's VR rig to achieve 120-fps recording, and the result is a silky smooth virtual image. It almost feels like time is slowing down around you a bit. The effect is mostly used during the battle scenes, which gives you time to soak in the detail in the actors' costumes and the carnage happening around you. Helping out the slow motion is a new action rig, which allows the camera to smoothly flow through space. (Typically VR filmmakers just plop their cameras down in a single spot.)

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I wasn't as big a fan of the film's use of 180-degree framing, which basically just blurs a large portion of the image to focus on what's in front of you. It feels a bit like the shallow focus trend we're seeing in TVs and films today (like how the show Louie is shot), but it's just needlessly limiting in VR. I actually thought something was wrong with the Daydream headset I was wearing the first time I saw the blurry effect.

And as Wilcox tells us, there are still plenty of challenges for shooting in VR: "There is no 'fourth wall' since the camera can see in all directions," he noted. "This creates challenges for the crew, who need to get out of the shot. This required us to hide behind trees, haystacks and cornfields to stay out of sight." Actors also have to be more mindful of their own performances, since they can't be closely monitored by the director.

Wilcox describes VR post-production as "significantly" more complex than traditional films. "Camera rigs must be painted out, visual effects have to be rendered multiple times to fill the surround format and stitching together the different camera views takes skill and precision," he said.

In My Brother's Keeper, we can see glimpses of where VR filmmaking is headed. As a medium, VR is still very much in an early stage, and there are bound to be issues as artists explore new technology and techniques. But that just makes the successful attempts that much more exciting.

- Repost from: engadget Post

#ITlive #engadget #'My Brother's Keeper' uses new VR tech to reenact the Civil War

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newyorktheater · 4 years

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Bob Dylan, whose songs are featured in “Girl From The North Country”

Playwright Taylor Mac brings “The Fre” to the Flea

Greg Kotis, Tony winner for “Urinetown,” is bringing a new show Off-Off Broadway

Patti LuPone in a gender-reversed Company, coming to Broadway

the late Michael Friedman

Martyna Majok, a playwright of the displaced in such plays as Ironbound and queens, is author of the long-awaited “Sanctuary City” slated for New York Theatre Workshop

Hilary Bettis, who was a writer for the FX series “The Americans,” brings a play about a recently deported mother Off-Broadway

Lynn Nottage, who has turned her play “Intimate Apparel” into an opera

Below is a selection of the abundant New York theater openings in March, organized chronologically by opening date*. Seven shows are opening on Broadway, a jarring mix of royalty and penury, a reflection perhaps of the divide in the world at large. Three are plays, three are musicals; a seventh is sort of both, featuring Bob Dylan’s old songs in a new drama by Conor McPherson. For the times they are a-changin’

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There are also exciting shows Off-Off Broadway — including new works by Greg Kotis and Taylor Mac, whose play is said to focus specifically on the cultural divide. Off Broadway, a musical by the late Michael Friedman makes its debut, along with new work by Katori Hall, Martyna Majok, Duncan Macmillan, Hilary Bettis.

In celebration of Women’s History Month, there’s the third annual On Women theater festival in Brooklyn.

And then there’s the celebration of the ban on plastic bags in New York State (which has gone into effect this month) with “The Plastic Bag Store,” free in Times Square — half art installation, half immersive theater…and one of several boundary-crossing shows with cutting-edge puppetry on stage in this busy month of March.*

Each title below is linked to a relevant website. Color key: Broadway: Red. Off Broadway: Black or Blue.. Off Off Broadway: Green. Theater festival: Orange. Immersive: Magenta. Puppetry-Brown

For those shows that don’t have official openings, I list by first performance.

March 1

The Hot Wing King (Signature)

A comedy by Katori Hall (“Our Lady of Kibeho,” “The Mountaintop”) that centers around the annual “Hot Wang Festival” in Memphis, TN.

March 3

The Perplexed (MTC’s City Center Stage 1)

Richard Greenberg, whose “Take Me Out” is being revived on Broadway this season, tells the story of two families, whose lives have been tumultuously intertwined for decades, as they gather in the massive library of a Fifth Avenue apartment to celebrate the nuptials of their children. Nothing goes smoothly

Coal Country (Public)

A new play with music by the wife-and-husband team Jessica Blank and Erik Jensen (The Exonerated) is based on first-person accounts of the explosion of the Upper Big Branch mine in 2019.

March 4

On Women Festival (Irondale Center)

The third annual three-week theater festival begins with “To Moscow! A Palimpsest” by Ada Luana and Gabriel F. (Brazil.) It continues with “Night Shadows—Or, One Hundred Million Voices Shouting” by Lynda Crawford, and two workshop presentations, “England’s Splendid Daughters” by Ann Kreitman and “The Fainting Room” by Becca Bernard.

March 5

Girl From the North Country (Belasco)

Written and directed by Conor McPherson, using songs that Bob Dylan wrote between 1963 and 2012, this play with music is set in 1934 at a guesthouse in Duluth, Minnesota (Dylan’s birthplace.) A group of travelers pass in and out of each other’s lives, and share stories that awaken each other with passion, fury and, beauty. This originated at the Public Theater. My review Off-Broadway.

I Am Nobody (The Tank)

An unhinged computer chip engineer threatens to destroy the world. What’s most noteworthy about this production is that it’s written by Greg Kotis, the Tony-winning author of arguably the most successful Off-Off Broadway show ever, “Urinetown.”

Kosmos Invers (HERE)

A new solo piece by puppeteer performance artist Karlan Sherrard with a powerful environmental message.

March 9

Unknown Soldier (Playwrights Horizons)

In this musical co-written by the late and much missed Michael Friedman, a woman sets out on a journey to unearth the secrets of her family’s past when she discovers in her grandmother’s home a mysterious photograph of an anonymous soldier, tucked away in a box of keepsakes.

March 10

72 Miles to Go (Roundabout’s Laura Pels)

Seventy-two miles. That’s the space between a recently deported mother in Nogales, Mexico and her husband and children in Tucson, Arizona. Written by Hilary Bettis, who was a writer for the FX series “The Americans”

March 11

Anywhere (HERE)

Freely inspired by the novel Oedipus on the Road by Henry Bauchau, Anywhere evokes the long wandering of Oedipus accompanied by his daughter Antigone. The fallen Oedipus appears in the form of an ice puppet that gradually turns into water then into mist and disappears in the Erynian Forest

March 12

Six (Brooks Atkinson)

Pop-concert musical featuring the six wives of Henry VIII.

March 13

Twelfth Night (El Barrio’s Artspace)

“Audiences will be welcomed to Illyria…This romantic comedy will explore themes of wealth and class, identity and disguise, and love and loss. Our production will allow participants to directly engage with these themes with a high level of agency.”

March 15

The Minutes (Cort)

Letts’ most political work to date is a dark comedy about a town council meeting in the fictional town of Big Cherry that turns ominous.

The Fre (The Flea)

The Fre is written by Taylor Mac, and directed by The Flea’s artistic director Niegel Smith, his collaborator on “Hir” and “24 Decade History of Popular Music” and that makes this show a must-see no matter how weird or uncomfortable it winds up being. “In this queer love story, audiences will literally and figuratively jump into the mud with the Fre to hash out the current cultural divide.”

Washington Square (Axis)

A new adaptation of the Henry James novel written and directed by Randy Sharp. (A previous adaptation is “The Heiress”)

March 18

The Plastic Bag Store (20 Times Square)

The Plastic Bag Store, a public art installation and immersive theater piece by artist and director Robin Frohardt explores the enduring effects of plastics. The “store” is stocked with thousands of original, hand-sculpted items — produce and meat, dry goods and toiletries, cakes and sushi rolls — all made from discarded plastics. At night, the store transforms into an immersive, dynamic set for free performances where “hidden worlds and inventive puppetry tell the darkly comedic, sometimes tender story of how the overabundance of plastic waste we leave behind might be misinterpreted by future generations.” Free and open to the public.

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March 19

Hangmen (John Golden)

A dark comedy by Martin McDonagh about a retired executioner who now presides over a pub, visited by a mysterious gentleman. My review Off-Broadway

March 20

Treasure Island (New Victory)

In this rendition of the classic pirate story, 12 puppeteers animate marionettes to tell the swashbuckling adventures of cabin boy Jim Hawkins.

March 21

Best Life (Jack)

In Melisa Tien’s play, a woman of color can rewind time, but only within the last five minutes. The result: her exchange with a white woman in a cafe becomes increasingly alarming

March 22

Company (Bernard B. Jacobs)

Starring Patti LuPone and Katrina Lenk, this fifth Broadway production of the Stephen Sondheim/George Furth musical about a single 35-year-old with married friends, this one is “re-gendered” so that the protagonist is now a woman, Bobbie.

March 23

Intimate Apparel (Lincoln Center Theater)

An opera based on Lynn Nottage’s play about the life and loves of Esther, a lonely, single African-American woman in early 20th century New York who makes her living sewing beautiful corsets and ladies’ undergarments.

March 24

Sanctuary City (New York Theatre Workshop)

Much anticipated (and much delayed) play by Martyna Majak, who was the 2018 Pulitzer Prize winner for Cost of Living, about two teenagers, life-long friends, in post-9/11 America.

March 25

Lungs (BAM)

Claire Foy and Matt Smith (who played Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip in the first season of “The Crown”) reunite in this look at love in the time of climate change, written by Duncan Macmillan (People, Places & Things)

March 26

The Lehman Trilogy (Nederlander)

The history of the rise and fall of the Lehman Brothers over 164 years, starting with the arrival of the three Lehman brothers from Bavaria in the mid nineteenth century. My review of The Lehman Trilogy when it was at Park Avenue Armory in April.

March 30

Oratorio for Living Things (Ars Nova Greenwich House)

A large scale musical work by Heather Christian, staged by director Lee Sunday Evans and featuring eighteen virtuosic singers and instrumentalists.

March 31

Diana (Longacre)

Jeanna de Waal portrays Princess Diana in this musical, with Roe Hartrampf as Prince Charles,Erin Davie as Camilla Parker Bowles, Judy Kaye as Queen Elizabeth

March 2020 New York Theater Openings Below is a selection of the abundant New York theater openings in March, organized chronologically by opening date*.

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listentome-ok · 5 years

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God is a Woman

‘Space stuff is cool, right?’ asked Ms. Moder, and then she crossed the length of the whiteboard to get to the other side.  ‘No,’ said Tim, without a beat, ‘space stuff isn’t cool, computer stuff is cool.’ His confusion was painted across his face - in acrylic - and his pencil was held in stillness only a centimetre from his paper.  ‘I like space stuff nonetheless.’ Ms. Moder replied. Tim looked at her despairingly. He had just had the sudden realisation that, once again, they would not be doing any computer stuff today.  ‘Actually,’ piped in Sandra from the other side of the classroom, ‘space stuff is very cool. Technically. Isn’t it?’   ‘And in here,’ added Eddie, ‘can we turn up the heating, Miss, please?’   ‘Eddie, I’m afraid we still can’t jig the heating problem in this room, but you’re welcome to keep your coat on if it makes you more comfortable. Now,’ announced Ms. Moder, rubbing her almost purple hands together, ‘let’s take a trip to outer space. For the next few weeks of our classes together, you will be working on your projects for the upcoming science fair. This is an exciting opportunity to explore any part of space that you make be interested in. I am giving you all complete reigns today, but you must stick to the theme of outer space, using and expanding on the things we have been learning in our previous classes.’   As Ms. Moder flicked through a powerpoint of examples of previous science fair success stories, an idea began to germinate in Susan’s mind. ‘Miss!’ She stretched her arm up as far as it could reach, so that it would be the most noticeable. She felt as though she could almost touch the ceiling, and her bottom lifted slightly off her seat in the effort. ‘Miss?’   ‘Yes, Susan.’  ‘Can we make a diorama?’  ‘Dioramas are a fantastic idea, Susan.’ Ms. Moder replied, ‘They’re a creative and interactive way to explore an aspect of space you may be interested in.’  ‘Can we make a diorama of an ideal planet, and the conditions it would need to host life?’  ‘Ooh!’ said Ethan, ‘I want to make up a planet too!’  ‘Me too!’ added Tim.  ‘You can’t make up a planet! That’s not in space - it’s inside your own head, dumdums’ said Sandra, scowling out at the rest of the classroom from her front row perch.  ‘Actually, I think a diorama of a model planet could work very well. It could be a great opportunity to showcase some scientific research. Of course, you would need to use the scientific method, as all good scientists do, you would need to find out the right conditions for a habitable planet, and then be able explain clearly how you found them.’ Susan nodded her head vigorously, then noticed Sandra doing the same, and abruptly stopped.

Susan’s brain prickled with activity on the walk home, so much that it was hard to contain, and seemed to be spilling out of her physically and making her restless. She was anxious to get home and get out her notebook - all the sooner so that she could write everything down. Her homework for the weekend was to ‘begin preparing and working on the project’ - she knew that her lofty ambitions required her to start right away. She knew that she needed to make sure she was remembering everything clearly; she knew, after all, that she had a habit of forgetfulness. She also knew already that she was going to need a very big jar to be successful in what she was going to undertake.

All of the thoughts swimming in her head were making her anxious of forgetting them, and she broke into a jog, her bag bouncing on her lower back, its straps smacking at the back of her knees. Once home, she desperately unlocked the door, desperately picked up the mail from the floor where it had fallen, desperately ran to the kitchen and put it on the table - while there desperately pouring herself a glass of orange juice from the fridge - and finally, desperately, she pulled and pushed clumsily at the zips and pockets of her bag until she had a blank page and a notebook in front of her. Then, finally relieving herself, it all poured out of her, everything she could remember and then some, page after page after page, so much that she continued to ache for many minutes after she had finished her task.

Then, Susan grabbed herself a bag of crisps from the cupboard and turned on Spongebob - because it was 3:30 - and sat down to wait for her mother to get home from work so that she could talk to her about it. But, with all the mechanisms having so recently been alive in her head, she found that she simply couldn’t focus on the TV, so she took her notebook over to her perch on the sofa and began to re-read what she had just put to paper. Soon, she found herself ripping out pages and writing them more coherently. She made one list of things she had to do and one list of materials she had to acquire in order to build her experiment, and then quickly added another list of things she would need to properly read up on in order to ensure it all ran smoothly. She slowly turned over and admired all of the pages she had written, and the neat lists.   Then, more out of a want to continue working on her project than anything else, she wrote out a timeline of events for the course of the experiment, and then the goals of the experiment. For now, her work was done, but she was not finished with it. So she opened up her pencil case and pulled out her special glitter pens, and then she went upstairs and found the box of craft paper that she had used for her car boot sale that summer, and wrote on it in large bubble letters, ‘Susan’s Year Eight Science Project’. Immediately, she regretted not waiting to think of a more original name. There it was now. She knew she was burning past her wick at this point. Maybe she would be able to spare another piece of craft paper. But she would save that for another day. She turned to the bookshelf in the living room, pulled down the King James Bible and the Encyclopaedia, and began to conduct her research.

By the time that her mum arrived home, Susan had become so immersed in her design that she felt she couldn’t simply let anyone see it, at least not at these rudimentary stages. What if she told her it couldn’t work? Or spilled on her notebook and ruined her research? Susan had an innate fear of sabotage - she felt everyone must - and so, just to be careful, she sneaked to her room when she heard her mother unlock the door, carrying her papers, her pens, her Bible, and her juice.

At school on Monday, Ms. Moder appeared perplexed by Susan’s efforts. She had almost ripped the seams of her book-bag when bringing in all her pages of research and plans, and she had even already bought the jar using three weeks of pocket money savings, which she read was the correct amount of money to spend on a large jar. So, though Ms. Moder was concerned by such an ambitious feat, her admiration of Susan’s hard work and dedication shone through it. She felt as though she could sense in Susan’s eyes a rare glint of astounding potential: she felt as though this glint in her eyes was Susan’s soul reaching out to Ms. Moder’s soul with this promise, and this plead to just trust in her young body. She felt a strange sense of deja vu, or possibly veja du, at their position, at being thrust into such blind faith in her own student.  ‘This is absolutely remarkable, Susan. What an inspiring commitment to detail. I am sure the project will exceed all of our expectations.’ She placed a sticky gold star right in the top corner of Susan’s front page, and then, for measure, handed Susan herself another, larger sticker, saying ‘Good Job!’ with a cartoon boy with large, outstretched hands. Susan beamed with joy at this. Ms. Moder sighed with relief at having made the right move in this gamble.

In the following days, Susan toiled incessantly at her project. In her few years, she had never felt as sure about anything. In her English class, they were reading Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, and now, though she was only 12, she understood the terror, toil and unimaginable sweat that flowed from Victor throughout the book - or up to the part she had read - and yet his duty to continue his work despite it. She amassed glue-sticks and batteries in her room, she read all of the books on the matter she could find in the house, and then went to the library for some more. She used dinner to grill her mother about the principles of gravity and of red paint. She was working hard, and she trusted it would lead to good things. After her long slog, encountering splinters, sleepless nights, glitter in places it shouldn’t be, and hands clumped together by glue, she finally had it. After seven days and nights, she stepped back to admire her completed diorama. She had not only built a planet, she had built an entire solar system for it to fit into. All of her calculations appeared to have paid off: she had needed to enclose her experiment in both bigger and smaller planets, protecting it from its life-giving ‘star’. She had spent a whole afternoon meticulously calculating the distance from the sun that would be required to allow days, nights, and water. She had used the bottles under her kitchen sink to create a unique reaction that made the gases of the sun, and she had even painstakingly crafted moons for each planet out of tin foil.

Indeed, after all of the work put into the solar system as a whole, which seemed to take centuries, the planet itself looked like a small blip: it reminded her of a snow globe. Indeed, other planets were grander. One was a beautiful blue, one was mighty and massive, and one she had even given rings on a whim, and she felt that in the sun she had achieved a brilliant brightness and size. Yet, this little planet of the middle of it was her raison d’être. This little planet was very special.

For a start, it had water. Therefore it could conduct carbon life. And this potential for carbon life, though simple, did have the possibility of growth. This wouldn’t just be single-cell organisms, oh no, this world, like her own, would be able to create many different types of cells, cells that could - hopefully - work together to conduct developed life. Maybe, like her world, there would be multiple different species working in harmony together. Maybe there would be development and evolution. As she peered down into her terrain, in the early morning moments after she had finally completed her work and before she headed off to her day at school, she watched as the first amoeba in the first ocean began, slowly, to multiply, and she felt it was the start of something very exciting.

By the time that she returned home, loaded with the dramatics of Sandra’s new jumper and Kevin’s sacrilege in bringing a smelly sandwich, she found that everything she had hoped of her little planet and more had already begun. Now, there weren’t just amoebas, plants and small amphibians had developed as well. There was algae and kelp, and she watched with her own eyes the burgeoning passage of photosynthesis that she had learned about the year before. She saw plants turning, in harmony with the rotation of the earth and the rotation of the moon and the rotation of the sun, and the orbit of the earth and the orbit of the moon and the orbit of the sun, turn to greet the light and bloom and blossom. She watched surprising animals with scaly, leathery green skin slither out onto the sand banks to bask in the warmth of the sun, with tails so long they reached the tip of their noses. She was excited to see that the mass itself was beginning to change shape: to it was beginning to grow hills and mountains, in a funny, lethargic way, like slowly stretching into its new skin. Unfortunately, she discovered while we watched earthly life growing and wilting, it did have a surprising, funny little feature that she just couldn’t quite jig, possibly a consequence of her test-tube creation, and it was that time was very linear, and therefore, mortality was a given.

Susan was surprised by how quickly growth was taking place. There seemed to be continuous motion and energy on her little planet. She was worried that it would burn out. Well, this was her first crack at it - perhaps if she ever tried it again she would be able to make this all happen a little bit slower. Perhaps it was because it was so small. It always seemed that small things grew and died a lot more quickly. That would be no good for her purposes though: the science fair was the next day, and she needed to make sure it would last so that she would be able to showcase it.

She took a quick inventory of the other planets to make sure that everything was running at the same speed with them as well. It seemed that, although they too were stretch in and changing shape, none of them showed this change quite so alarmingly, because none of them conducted life in the same way. She enjoyed watching the ice storms and the volcano eruptions and valleys and mountains forming and gases shifting and clouding over. She found it very calming, and carefully looked at them all, in turn, for a long time. By the time she turned back to her earth, however, it had already grown even more! There were, she could see in one corner, multiple species of animals, interacting with each other and with their surroundings. Some were as tall as the trees - some even seemed as tall as mountains, some had wings and could fly, others had great teeth and seemed to fight and even eat the others. Susan couldn’t believe her eyes. She had not anticipated this at all in her plans. How could this have come about? Why was this happening? This was so not what she had planned for! She looked over at Venus, beautiful Venus with its moonless sky and its cool, effortless glow. She wished earth could be more like that. She looked at Mars, fierce and red and completely devoid of life, and she wished that earth could be more like that too.

She felt frustrated. These amoebas had betrayed her. She gruffed,but she couldn’t turn her eyes away. She watched the animals fighting and killing, and her temper rose and rose. Did they not have plants for their food? Couldn’t they just learn to photosynthesise like her plants? Why did they have to be so violent and dramatic about everything?! They were destroying each other, and it was ruining her diorama. She couldn’t take this mess into school tomorrow! What would Ms. Moder say? What would Sandra say?! She had to act quickly. She decided to scrap the issue of animal life. She would leave it at plants, if that was possible. If not, she would simply leave it as an inhospitable planet, like Venus and Mars. She sensed the urgency, she saw that the little planet was beginning to advance its rock formations. With these cave-like structures, she would have no way to prevent these animals from rising up and still maintain her beautiful order.

Susan ran down the stairs and out of the front door, passing her confused mother on the way. Before she could answer her questions, she grabbed a handful of gravel from the little square of it outside her house, and then turned and ran with equal energy back up the stairs, perplexing her mother even more on the way.

Back in her room, with careful aim, she skimmed the pieces of gravel one by one into her gravitational force, praying that her hand-eye coordination was enough that they would just land on earth. Sure, some ended up shattering off of Venus and one even hit the moon, but the intention was met: the gravel rained through the cool atmosphere of the planet, crashing to the surface of the earth, and destroying the fighting and killing of the strange, scary, aliens. Susan stepped back and commended herself on her quick problem-solving abilities. She had a feeling that now everything else was going to work out as planned.

Susan woke up with the light of the morning. Today was the day she had been dreaming of for the last three weeks! She had waited for this day with more anticipation than she had ever waited for anything before. In the bright light, she could see her poster, her portfolio, and her page of notes all ready and waiting for her on her desk. She knew her speech off by heart. She had answers for any questions she might be asked. She felt good. Somewhere, on the other side of the town, on the other side of the universe, Kyle was desperately trying to meld a biro to a shoelace with a hairdryer and hoping he could make something out of it.

Before anything, Susan took extra care in putting on her special science fair outfit - she didn’t have a lab coat, but had managed to find everything else typical of a scientist in the long forgotten nooks and crannies of the house: slacks, mismatched socks, a jumper that smelled like wet wool, and a half melted Twix that she tucked into her back pocket. Then, she walked over to her experiment. She sat down at her desk, and peered into the solar system. What she saw did not please her. Not at all. What she saw, what she imagine had developed over the course of the evening, was little creatures, like ants or morphins, walking around on their back two feet and frequently bumping into each other. She saw materials she could not recognise, materials she imagined these creatures themselves had developed. And she felt… overwhelmed. She felt emotions that she was unfamiliar with, on scales she was unfamiliar with. She felt confusion, panic, dread, and joy. She felt the emotions of these small animals, and they were very complex! What she was looking at here was, she concluded, more dangerous than the beasts she had thrown rocks at. What she felt was ambition, envy, greed and passion. And what she felt, removed from the feelings of these animals, was a foreboding sense of regret. She didn’t know how these beings had emerged, but it seemed far too late to worry now. So, facing the world she had created, she did the only thing she felt was possible, she called her mum.

When her mum peered down at the diorama she couldn’t feel anything but impressed. She clapped Susan on the back. ‘This is brilliant, darling!’ she exclaimed, ‘who could have imagined this?! I am so, so amazed. You must be so happy!’  ‘Mum!’ Susan glared, ‘get with the picture! Look closer!’  ‘At the little morphins? I love that touch.’  ‘They’re not morphins, mum. They’re something else and they’re very complex beings! I don’t like them! I don’t want them! Mum, what am I going to do? I only want flowers.’ ‘Well, when life gives you lemons, dear.’ ‘But these aren’t lemons, mum!’  ‘How can you not enjoy these little things?! Look at that one over there: it seems to be drawing on the walls. Painting something, maybe. Oh, look, it’s a little stick man. Isn’t that sweet?’  ‘Mum, these things are far from sweet. I know what they’re thinking.’  ‘Well, Susan, you must be so impressed with yourself! Look at this whole world you’ve created - now it’s gotten up and started walking on its own feet! I am so proud of you! Don’t worry too much about these little beings. Remember who’s boss! Ms. Moder is going to absolutely love this, I promise you.’ ‘She won’t,’ Susan stropped and crossed her arms across her chest. ‘She’ll call me a Prometheus’  ‘She won’t call you a Prometheus! Don’t be silly!’  ‘Or Sandra will!’ ‘Sandra will be blown away by this. Come on, you’re worrying too much - and this is a good thing! I like this little creatures. They’re attractive and endearing, and look, they’re so capable, they don’t need any help from you at all! Easy! This is the perfect result of your experiment, don’t you think?! Now, let’s get this downstairs before we’re late!’   With that, she picked up the diorama and whisked it out of her daughter’s reach before she could hear any other doubts. In the haste of this, she accidentally knocked the outermost planet off of its field of rotation, and into a different field entirely. ‘Oh dear Susan, clumsy me, I’m so sorry, I hope I didn’t spoil anything by doing that - let me put it better when we get downstairs.’  Susan was shocked. For the first time in her short life, she was speechless. But then, somewhere in her body she heard rather than felt herself talking, and the words we spoke were ‘don’t worry, mum, that one doesn’t really matter too much - it’s more for decoration. But please be careful for the rest of the way down!’ Susan’s mother couldn’t reply to that because she was sticking out her tongue and letting it curl up over her top lip in concentration as she descended the stairs, one by one by one by one.

By the time that they had got to the school and unloaded the solar system diorama onto Susan’s table spot, it seemed that things on earth had already developed quite a bit. Indeed, it seemed that the creatures were doing different things on the different patches of land, separated by large spans of water. And, looking in, Susan discovered something quite amazing: a boat taking the creatures from one part of the planet to another. Multiple boats, in fact, in multiple different designs and sizes. She was impressed with her little people, impressed by their independent development. She would have never been able to figure out how to make a boat! To her, that seemed incredible and they appeared to have complete power over their little world.

She looked closer. She saw wagons and wheels, and she was pleased. She saw clocks and timekeeping, and she was astounded. She saw actors in play, lovers in rapture, scientists in the midst of discovery and geographers on the edge of the world. She saw tropical palm trees and dry oak trees, bubbling streams and gushing rivers, salmon and hedgehogs and bush babies and stilettos. She was awed by the beauty of it all. She felt proud. She felt as if she knew this planet inside out. She had never worked on anything so hard, or for so long, or had such amazing results. Once, she had made a fruit bowl out of paper mache, but when she placed a bunch of freshly washed grapes into it, the bowl became soggy and covered all of its contents with glue. This time, things were different. Things were moving. She could hear the thoughts and feel the emotions of these beings and - wait a minute, she could hear the thoughts and feel the emotions of these beings! And she felt frightened, scared, hungry and alone! She took a closer look. She saw daggers and guns, racism, classism, sexism and homophobia. She heard speakers lying, babies crying, people hungry and people dying. She saw volcanoes that could hurt the beings, and beings that could hurt volcanoes, and tsunamis and warfare and cruelty and uncertainty. She was disgusted by the horror of it all. She felt ashamed. She felt as if she did not know this planet at all. This was all she had worked on for the last weeks, this, she felt, was her magnum opus. This was not appropriate for a preteen!

Susan kept a brave face as Ms. Moder came over. ‘Wow, Susan, this is beautiful work.’ Ms. Moder was almost speechless for the fifth time that day, ‘this must have taken you hours. I am so impressed!’ She knelt down to have a closer look, ‘Oh, uh, Ms. Moder?’ Susan asked, panicked. ‘Do you mind if I ask you a question?’ Ms. Moder’s attention was diverted back to her. She didn’t want her to see the mess she had made of everything. She didn’t want to fail this project after putting so much work into it, after all. ‘I was wondering if you could tell me where the bathroom was?’ Susan knew this was a risk, but based on all the panicked and dilly-dallying voices in her head and all of the sweat that she could intrinsically feel waving off of her beings, she also knew that it was going to pay off.  ‘Oh, err, don’t you know where the bathroom is, Susan?’ ‘I don’t know the way from here. I have never before been to P.E. class because I’ve always found a way around the linear nature of time and timetables too. This is the first time I’ve set foot in this gym.’  ‘Oh, pet, well it’s just through that door and to the right, you’ll see the sign when you go out.’  Susan had absolute faith as she was walking out of the gymnasium with her back to her science teacher that Ms. Moder would not stay at her station without her, feeling awkward and intrusive, and would instead go and have a look at Kyle’s shoelace. She was absolutely right.

That was a close call, thought Susan as she splashed her face with cold water. It didn’t help. It only made her wet. She rolled all her eyes at herself in the mirror. Then she twisted up the nose of the hand dryer and pushed the big silver button, letting the calm, warm air blow across her face and flatten those tendrils of her she had gotten wet against her forehead. Now, what was she going to do about this whole earth situation? Holy hell on high water! What was she going to do about this whole earth situation?! Ok, she took one pacing lap around the space between the bathroom sinks and the bathroom cubicles. Then she turned and took another lap, this one counter-clockwise. Ok, she needed to go back out there. She felt an urgent need to hide her diorama from her teachers and her peers. At least as well as she could at a science fair where she was showcasing it. She needed to destroy her creation. Did she need to destroy her creation? Ok. You know what, she flapped her hands out to her sides, it’s going to be fine. She watched herself do this in the mirror, and she looked directly into her eyes. Her confidence faltered. She caught it immediately. She straightened her back. It’s just a science project, Susan. It doesn’t even matter. They’re not going to smite you for messing up a science project. She cocked her chin up in the mirror. Everything’s going to be sorted out before dinnertime and mum said we can have pizza tonight. Yes. She turned a full 90 degrees to face the door from whence she came. Yes. And she walked back out to where she had come from.

Susan took long strides as she walked back to the gym. She was feeling more and more human by the second. She enjoyed the feelings and thoughts that her beings were charging her with. She felt strong, alive - more alive than she had ever felt before. She felt nervous, but, more than anything, optimistic. No, faithful. She had complete confidence that everything would turn out fine. And she knew how stupid that was. Nonetheless, she could win this science fair. Eat your heart out, Kyle. The next hours passed in a nervous slowness, though, in fact, they were rather underwhelming. Susan resumed position at her table. She spoke about her diorama and undermined how long it had taken to build it, especially when Sandra came over. She accepted the inevitability of people seeing her beings and what they were doing, but in fact, everyone passed over her diorama with such a glazed eye that it seemed nobody noticed them. She made sure her jumper was still damp and her Twix still half-melted, then she took some time to walk around and looked at everyone else’s projects. She learned some facts about clouds, and she enjoyed looking at photographs of nebulas. She loosened her gait and she found that, despite her worries, she was able to enjoy much of the rest of the day.

It was on this day that Susan learned something she would frequently use. Sometimes, if you can get through a long, hard afternoon, it means you can get through anything. The strength of her faith in this, and knowing that the fair would soon end, helped her to get through it all the more. It was one of those funny deja vu moments that she felt in her shoulders whenever she thought about time and timetables. At the end of the day, driving home with her mother, her ice cream, and her blue ribbon, Susan felt on top of the world.

By the time they got home, however, her attitude had changed. ’Everything OK, Susan?’ asked her mother once they had got back home and laid the diorama on the kitchen table, ‘You’ve seemed a little quiet since the end of the fair. Are you worried about something?’ ‘Mum, I think we have to destroy the planet.’ Susan replied, ‘before it destroys itself.’  ‘Oh, darling, don’t say that. What’s got you into such a fizzle? Is it those little morphins?’  ‘Yes mum, those things are ruining my diorama!’  ‘I think they’re nice.’ ‘They’re evil, I think.’ ‘They mean well, Susan! I think it’s quite hard down there! They keep slipping on glitter and - look at this, love, look how steep these cliffs are! You couldn’t file them down, could you?’  ‘I don’t think I can let these morphins see me in their atmosphere. They’ll freak out. Their fingers are these weird brown shades - I don’t think they like purple very much.’  ‘Oh, darling, don’t go worrying about your skin now.’  ‘Mum, no, I’m serious. I think the best thing for us to do would be to destroy it. Many people want it anyway, I can feel it.’  ‘Darling, now how would that ever be the best thing to do?’  ‘Well, the morphins are hurting each other!’ ‘They’re helping each other too! And look how far they’ve come in just one day!’  ‘No, mum, I can’t condone this suffering.’ ‘Darling, you have to be aware that you would also be destroying the good. This isn’t your fault, love. It happened, and nobody expected it to. It happened by its own design. These morphins have been taking care of themselves all day, and they didn't even get you into any trouble! Come on, let’s leave them be for a little longer. They’re not your responsibility anymore - you can have nothing more to do with them, if you’d like! But aren’t you excited to see what they ‘ll have done by tomorrow?!’  ‘If I’m not allowed to throw it away, then can we at least put it somewhere out of sight?!’  ‘Oh, Susan,’ her mother put an empathetic hand on her shoulder, ‘don’t feel guilty or embarrassed by these little things. You know what, why don’t we store it is the garage until later. I’m sure you’ll get this old thing out years from now and be amazed at how brilliant you were!’

Together, they carefully placed the diorama into a box in the garage that held a few of Susan’s other snippets of school life: early drawings, a diary of her summer, a hat she knitted, and a project on rain forests. they closed the lid on it and slowly ploughed up the stairs together to order a pizza and finally and deservedly rest their tired knees.

When Susan uncovered the box, many years later, in a particularly zealous burst of spring cleaning, she found that it had independently come to its own end. The sun, which she remembered to be so bright and massive, now only let out a faint glow, and the planets seemed dulled and shrunken, like rotten oranges. She couldn’t tell if this was the strange and unfortunate passage of time, or simply her romantic memory. But it didn’t bother her too much because by that time she had moved on from her science projects and gold stars. Now, she was working on a prototype much more advanced.

#short story #god is a woman #god #space #aliens #susan

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