A Puddle in the Space

July 5, 2012
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As Jarrof swung the direction-gear to a 60° angle, the view outside the thick-glassed window-slit began to change slowly. After a seemingly unending wait, the murky screen in front of him showed the glowing white circle, which Jarrof had been trying to spot for the last couple of hours. He puffed out a heavy breath of relief and let his always-serious face to be taken over by a light smile.

Treff stared at the man he’d been sitting mutely with for the last few hours in the weird place that that claimed to be a spaceship. He wondered how much longer he could survive like that, silent like a robot for fear that an awkwardly serious man beside him might just get angry. That was not the point though; he just had no idea how to deal with angry men in the middle of space.

“Treff, can you hand me those goggles?”

Treff was almost startled. Did Jarrof just speak? He had been beginning to think that guy was a mute. As he handed the purple goggles, he tried to think of something good to say. What can be good enough to say in the middle of space inside an unworldly spaceship to an even more unworldly dude?

“So Jarrof, what’s that white thing on the screen?”
“The wormhole we’ve been looking for.”
“You mean, a time-puddle kind of thing? Since when are we looking for those?”
“Since we started our journey in this space micro-ship. I thought you knew that.”
“Oh, thanks for the information. I was really wondering what I’m doing up here with a weirdo.”

Jarrof concentrated on accelerating their speed. He had to reach it before it got too weak.

“So, are we gonna get into that puddle?” Treff couldn’t help being perturbed, though he had no idea what could really happen.
“Yes, Treff. And it’s not a puddle. A wormhole is more like a tunnel. So would you mind stopping to give irrelevant names to matters that are below your apprehension?”
“Yeah, whatever. But I wonder if anyone’s ever reached the other end of the tunnel. From my view, it doesn’t go further than a puddle.

This guy will have to feel it for himself to understand, Jarrof thought to himself.

The fourteen feet long micro-ship was just a few minutes away from entering the wormhole. Jarrof felt his whole body get tight with anticipation.
“Can’t wait to experience falling in a space-puddle in real-time!” Treff blurted out.

The automated voice of the spaceship’s controlling base reverberated:
In five…four…three…two…one…

A sharp tinny sound.

Jarrof opened his eyes, to face a white rough plain…his ceiling. As his brain awoke to complete consciousness, he looked around at his own bedroom. No way. That couldn’t be just a dream! His face was wrapped up in utter indignation, frustration.

On a distant corner of the globe, another guy was sitting upright on his bed. “Wow, cool dream. Better than falling in a puddle, at least,” he mumbled to himself.

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