Archive for Tales

A Cosmic Evolution

By Dr Laurance Doyle
(with apologies to Langdon Smith’s Evolution Poem)

 

When the Earth was young, and the Moon nearby, in a cometary sea, prokaryotic thoughts arose, what fun it is to be!

“Lets rust the world!” we all agreed, “until the iron’s done. We’ll use the oxygen we make! Come on, it will be fun!”

As huge salt mountains melted down to spice the saltless seas, the dosado tectonic dance of plate activities,

Trilobites now filled the sea, and oxygen the air, “What say we all crawl up on land? And have a picnic there!”

“We’ll bring amphibians and trees, and Oh, it will be fun! And bring some extra ozone to protect us from the Sun.”

So off we went, and partied on, from cynodont to ‘saur. Time flies when one is having fun. Then from a distant shore,

We saw a comet hit the ground, the best I’ve ever seen. It turned the Moon a pretty blue, the Sun a shade of green.

“Now that’s a party!” we all sang, and went to mammals be. The ‘saurs became a little flock of ornithology.

The trees were great, but it was late, so onto two we strode. And chipped some stone and built some fires to warm the cave abode.

“Already the Holocene? My how the time does fly! Seems like t’was but yesterday, when the Moon was nearby.”

Now here we are, upon the Moon. Next—to another sun! A galaxy to party in. I said it would be fun!

(SPACE.com — A Cosmic Evolution)

La trampa

La peor desgracia que le pudo ocurrir a Matías Ellegwood, fue descubrir la máquina del espacio-tiempo. La encontró en el Museo del Hombre, donde trabajaba como curador de antigüedades, amontonada entre varios artefactos de diversas épocas: instrumentos para volar del Renacimiento, barómetros de aviones perdidos, astrolabios antiguos y un ingenio destinado a descubrir la verdad. La máquina era una pequeña consola de la que sobresalía un brazo metálico con una lámpara en el extremo. Al accionar un par de botones de manera inmediata se disparó un flash y lo tragó un remolino de luz blanca en cuyo interior perdió la conciencia. Cuando despertó estaba atrapado aquí, en los límites de esta página. Mirándote aterrado.

Ricardo Varela Realpe