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Two Breaths Walking; A few days earlier
Topic Started: Jul 17 2016, 05:38 PM (592 Views)
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Who is this sassy lost child
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If anything, Raina supposed she was surprised that Johnny's mom knew who Jonathan Swift was.

It was a simple, silly thing, and suddenly she felt weirdly like she wanted to laugh. With one pointless comment, Johnny almost righted things again.

"Science fiction writers are always predicting the future, whether they mean to or not. Things like flying machines, and space travel, and being able to instantly communicate with people all over the world... We've done all that. Things they only dreamed of."

Things like a world where everyone was equal, and everyone had a chance. They were getting there, weren't they?

She watched as Johnny stepped forward to look through the telescope and let the quiet resume for a minute or two. Finally, she said, "When you've had your fill of Mars, I can find Jupiter and then give Saturn a try."
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
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frogue
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just a picture of a cloud
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Mars was as he predicted, round and orange-ish.

Johnny could feel Raina's eyes on him, though, so he pretended to be impressed; blowing his breath out all long and drawn-out, like he didn't have room in him at the same time for both air and all this new, mindblowing knowledge he was attaining, here.

"Not me," he said as he stared through the lens. "I haven't done those things, I mean. Flyin' and goin' to space and talkin' to japanese perverts or whatever."

He stood back up, wiping dirt off of his knees, and gave her a little smile, reassuring her it wasn't a complaint.

"Yet to hit my stride, I'm sure. Gimme five years or so an' I'm sure I'll've done stuff that'd make Jonathan Swift shit himself."

That comment got a little smile out of Raina, and Johnny could feel his heart lift up, out of his body and soar off into the cosmos to orbit some distant star. His knife-toothed grin split his face in half.

"Give us a look at Jupiter then, yeah?"
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Who is this sassy lost child
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Personally, Raina thought that Jonathan Swift would shit himself anyway if he had the vaguest inkling of what kind of things people in the future got up to, good or bad. Johnny already had that going for him, if nothing else.

She kept quiet and let him pretend to be really impressed by Mars for her sake, and then nudged him out of the way again to adjust the telescope towards Jupiter. Her battered old telescope wasn't powerful enough to get a really good view and display all the individual bands of clouds and storms, but if they were lucky she might be able to get a view of the famous (if unimaginatively named) Great Red Spot. It was a clear night, so they could probably pick up the Galilean moons too.

"There you go," she said, double checking to make sure she could see it clearly enough before stepping back. "Biggest planet in the Solar System, first of the gas giants, over one thousand times the volume of Earth. Only about 300 times as massive though, since it's all made of gas."
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
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frogue
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just a picture of a cloud
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Shivers shot through Johnny's arm as Raina touched it, guiding him away from the telescope. Her fingers were soft and cold and gentle and lovely and he could feel ripples, radiating from the point on his arm and through his whole being, as if those fingertips had been a stone that had dropped in the lake of him and sank all the way to the very bottom, right the absolute and fundamental truth of who he was.

He clasped his other hand to the point on his arm, and the place where she'd touched him seemed to burn slightly, as if the touch had made some lasting and unalterable change to his skin. It felt better for it.

He wished she could touch him all over, and Johnny looked away, up to the now-dusky sky, not trusting himself not to leer.

Her voice was like a bell or a harp or one of the other instruments that people say things sound like when they're pretty, and it was all he could do to actually listen to what she said as her words sang in his ear.

The rusty penny he was looking at through the telescope was the size of a thousand earths she said, and Johnny wondered how many Kingman's that was.

It was a lot, that was for sure, and what the fuck was the point of that? There were places in Kingman, even after 17 years that he still hadn't been, so why make a place a million billion times the size of that? If you lived to be two hundred you'd still never see all of it, so why make it so big in the first place.

To Johnny, the whole thing seemed hugely wasteful.
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Who is this sassy lost child
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"Since it's clear, we can probably pick up Saturn... I don't think anything after that will show, though." And no, she wasn't just making that up because she knew Johnny would snicker if she started talking about trying to find Uranus.

Saturn was generally agreed to be the most impressive planet in the Solar System anyhow, looks-wise. Too bad it'd just be a greenish-gray blob with its rings reduced to jutting points on either side by her telescope.

If she were feeling particularly pretentious, Raina would have made the argument that Earth was by far the most impressive known planet, considering that it was the only one that housed creatures with the capacity to argue about which planet was most impressive in the first place.

There were so many things on Earth that she still wanted to see, to do. She almost couldn't comprehend flying off to somewhere else, as mind-blowing as it would be.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
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((Raina Rose continued in At the End of Everything))
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
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