Time and Relative Dimensions on Campus
So there was a TARDIS on campus yesterday.
Rumour of its existance reached me via Facebook (with the help of my roomie Louise, currently topping my "favourite people ever" list), so I deliberatly left a half-hour early for my exam, to give myself a chance to swing by. I didn't have time to hunt for it, but I knew that the building it was supposed to be in had a bunch of mini museum exhibits - skeletons and rocks, mostly, but also some industrial machinery - and I figured that was the most likely place to find it. I told myself I'd just walk through and see what I could see, and not be too dissapointed if I didn't spot it.
Halfway through the building, I heard familiar voices - one of my old housemates, and a friend from residence. Turned a corner. They saw me, laughed, pointed through a window. And there it was.
This was no half-assed cardboard job, guys; I'm talking made of wood, with accurate looking door hardware and a lit interior. It had been lovingly placed into a paleontology exhibit, just beneath the skeleton of some large, pre-historic predator. The layout of the room meant that the three of us - giddy, laughing, unbelieving - could circle around and see if from three different angles, but no one could get within ten feet of touching distance unless they happened to posess a key. Or lockpicking skills. Neither of which we had.
And it was crazy, because I knew it was fake. Even from that distance I could see the little flaws, see the seams where it broke apart into pieces that could actually fit through a door. But this little voice in the back of my head was still whispering, if we don't try to open the door, how can we know? How can we just walk away from this before we're sure?
But I had an exam, and also a strong desire not to get arrested after smashing a window on university property, so walk away I did. And then came home and read Diane Duane's essay Meetings on the Stair to console myself. There's a strange and powerfull rush of emotion that comes from being that close to something from your dreams, and it's a very odd high to come down from.
crossposted from Dreamwidth |
comments on original post
Rumour of its existance reached me via Facebook (with the help of my roomie Louise, currently topping my "favourite people ever" list), so I deliberatly left a half-hour early for my exam, to give myself a chance to swing by. I didn't have time to hunt for it, but I knew that the building it was supposed to be in had a bunch of mini museum exhibits - skeletons and rocks, mostly, but also some industrial machinery - and I figured that was the most likely place to find it. I told myself I'd just walk through and see what I could see, and not be too dissapointed if I didn't spot it.
Halfway through the building, I heard familiar voices - one of my old housemates, and a friend from residence. Turned a corner. They saw me, laughed, pointed through a window. And there it was.
This was no half-assed cardboard job, guys; I'm talking made of wood, with accurate looking door hardware and a lit interior. It had been lovingly placed into a paleontology exhibit, just beneath the skeleton of some large, pre-historic predator. The layout of the room meant that the three of us - giddy, laughing, unbelieving - could circle around and see if from three different angles, but no one could get within ten feet of touching distance unless they happened to posess a key. Or lockpicking skills. Neither of which we had.
And it was crazy, because I knew it was fake. Even from that distance I could see the little flaws, see the seams where it broke apart into pieces that could actually fit through a door. But this little voice in the back of my head was still whispering, if we don't try to open the door, how can we know? How can we just walk away from this before we're sure?
But I had an exam, and also a strong desire not to get arrested after smashing a window on university property, so walk away I did. And then came home and read Diane Duane's essay Meetings on the Stair to console myself. There's a strange and powerfull rush of emotion that comes from being that close to something from your dreams, and it's a very odd high to come down from.
crossposted from Dreamwidth |
comments on original post