The exercise:
Write about something: extra.
Don't know that I've ever appreciated an unexpected three day weekend more than this one. When word came through early last week that the office would be closed today for Queen Elizabeth's memorial I gained a whole new appreciation for the monarchy.
3 comments:
Well, I would say it's your government you should be grateful to, actually. Certainly in the UK it's the government that allocates extra days or holidays or whatever because of something Royal going on, otherwise they could just get on with it themselves. That said, it does seem like the death of a Head of State, however titular, deserves some recognition. I'm sure all those people who were proclaiming themselves happy that she's died went to work anyway and proved their sincerity :)
Extra
[DWP, 20th September, 'Extra']
The Borealis flickered over the dunes like an electric green curtain. Here and there, as it folded in over itself and then stretched and straightened out again, yellows appeared amidst the emerald green; at the edges the green shaded into violet and ultramarine. But there was no red present anywhere in it, no matter how long she watched and waited.
The Borealis was a mostly natural phenomenon, created by the temperature difference between day and night at Rotesand. It had first manifested six years ago, scaring the life out of a Hollywood starlet's party guests, and had then hidden itself away for three months, puzzling investigators and astronomers alike. Then, slowly it had reappeared and reasserted itself, until now the Borealis was present most nights.
At the edge of Rotesand an observatory had been built. It was a squat, mushroom shaped building that was mostly empty inside: there was a huge telescope pointed at the stars and the Borealis; the machinery to adjust the aim and focus of the telescope, and a couple of chairs that were regularly dragged this way and that across the scuffed concrete floor. Outside the observatory, attached but not directly connected, were three small rooms: a bathroom, a kitchen, and a slightly larger, better outfitted, sitting room. These rooms hadn't been in the original plans, and when they were added the architect of the observatory, Ronald Wilkins, had sniffed imperiously (with his magnificent, beak-like, roman nose making a truly impressive statement) and dismissed them as 'extra'. Carmine Assouade, who felt that the astronomers should have somewhere to rest that wasn't lying on their back on cold concrete, had smiled, her diamond-studded teeth glittering like a disco-ball, and agreed. So the Wilkins Observatory had the Extra on the side, and the only person who truly hated it was Ronald Wilkins.
The Extra's sitting room had a slightly worrying smell to it that suggested that the bathroom had been recently used by someone who wasn't expecting guests. Sat on a plush jade couch at the side of the room was Aurelie. She was reading a journal of astronomy, her finger running slowly down a chart, and next to her was a newspaper with the slightly crumpled pages open to the horoscopes. Owang coughed slightly to attract her attention, setting his briefcase down next to the table -- made by some designer friend of Carmine's -- with a click.
"It's hard to believe that Scorpios will be affected by the moon in Taurus today," said Aurelie. "The moon is nowhere Taurus. It's right over the other side of the zodiac, in fact. Do you think they even check these things before they write them?"
"It's numerology," said Owang curtly. He had a very low opinion of astrology, numerology and other things that he felt weren't set on a proper scientific footing. He did believe black cats were bad luck though. "Wouldn't it make more sense to be reviewing the Borealis numbers from last night?"
"Done," said Aurelie. She waved a hand in the vague direction of the kitchen. "Next to the fish-pie."
Owang's eyes widened slightly. Aurelie always gave off an air of being distracted and uninterested in the real world, but when you challenged her on some part of her job she always seemed to have it under control.
"You... there were five hours of observations," he said, wondering if the fish-pie was for him.
"And five from the night before but only three from Monday," she said. She turned a page of the journal and snorted. "Hah! I knew Mars wasn't going to be in ascendance at this time of year. I put the data through the Correlator just to be on the safe side, but there's no matches. The Borealis has absolutely changed where it's appearing, and is three degrees of intensity stronger. Something extra has been added to it."
"We haven't figured out where it came from yet," said Owang, feeling a sense of dread in his stomach. "If we tell people it's moving--"
"And getting stronger!"
"--let's not tell them that. If we tell them it's moving then there're going to be questions. Funding might be pulled."
Aurelie set the journal aside and looked at him, her vivid green eyes meeting his limpid brown ones. "Carmine wouldn't," she said. "And Wilkins will kick up a fuss if his observatory isn't being used; he insisted on a twenty-year lifespan in his contract. But... I agree. We need something extra ourselves, something that will uncover what this Borealis is doing here, and why it's changing."
Greg - hah, very true.
Hmm, that all seems rather worrying... and certainly not something one would want the general public to be aware of. Good call, and I'm curious to see what's going on here.
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