Usually my physicist friends’ conversation goes right over my head – bad enough, but when they really try to explain things, it’s worse.
Last night, Josh explained about quantum foam. How space isn’t infinitely divisible or smooth, but there’s a smallest distance two things can be apart. And that there’s really no reason why time should be different. So there isn’t a smooth timeline, but really a succession of separate moments, like pearls on a string. And we hop from one to another.
When you’ve been scavenging meteorites together for a while, they say, you can read each other’s thoughts.
Losing our radar had made us blind and lame. Now, losing the radio circuits made us deaf and dumb. Searching for us would be like tracking down a single piece of dust in the Sahara.
Jack was confident. “Tania will find us. She’s a genius at tracing the omega stabiliser ionisation. I know you think it’s too risky. Lucky I turned it on anyway.” “I know you did,” I choked. My voice was gone. He went pale.
But I turned it off again.
The 100 word challenge at Julia’s place. The prompt this week was: …but I turned it off…
Fess up, everyone: who else loved reading Asimov as a teenager?