The Last Day.
Henry is redrafting the European Constitution.
Gary, having fulfilled his Y chromosome spectacularly once again in expertly assembling another coal fire, and Jon, still loved up on saltwater and missing a piano, have gone out to buy booze for this evening. Ben is looking at stars. It’s currently 3:15 in the afternoon.
There’s a recurrence of the Greek letter Nu in my life at the moment, or symbols that closely represent it. I had to ask Henry to identify it for me, as my Ancient Greek isn’t so much rusty as long given-in-to metal fatigue. And, to coin a popular phrase in several of my social circles, “imagine my surprise” when I discovered it was the thirteen letter of the alphabet.
It was decided that Alpha Librae, otherwise known Zubenelgenubi, looks by far the most happening place to be in the constellation, if not the galaxy. It’s a lot like Zubeneschamali, but has the added excitement of being a binary star system. I was excitedly shouting out various individual stars as I discovered them (“Henry! I’ve found Omega Serpens Caputis!”) before Henry replied with “Yes, Tom,” and I realised I wasn’t even trying to do a (usually lukewarm) Fourth Doctor impersonation. (Really, it’s true. The only decent Tom Baker impression I can do is when I say either “Ribena” or “irreversible fucking coma.”) I wonder what constellation Sol would be in. I feel like it’s something I used to know but have forgotten. Pergatorius at best perhaps. Hades at worst.
Today is our last day. It greeted us this morning with a perfect rainbow. I had to scamper downstairs in my little gay grey Calvins (not to be confused with the cow) to get my camera before it vanished. The days seem to go so quickly on this island. This last week has barely lasted seven days.
