Wednesday, 18 November 2009

Something I wrote in Narrative Nonfiction Class

It only makes sense if you've seen Battlestar Galactica.


There's a girl sitting across the room from me who looks exactly like Kara Thrace. The blonde hair, perfect length, little to no makeup, thin mouth, boyish style. I keep staring at her, through class, through her presentation, through the rest of class again. I try to sketch her face, but I immediately get the nose wrong. Give up on sketch, go back to staring.

I imagine she is Kara, in her dog tags and fatigues. I imagine she is here in class but flies Vipers after hours.

I imagine next that this is the ancestor of Kara Thrace and somehow her great-great-granddaughter will fight Cylons in an age of interstellar travel. I think about the implications of Battlestar Galactica as our human future. Have we already invented Cylons? Is it too late to stop it? Can we?

I imagine I tell Kara look-alike the similarity I have noted. In my mind, she laughs awkwardly and shuffles away from me toward the door. I am left all alone, in my mind, thinking of Kara Thrace.

1 comment:

David Scrimshaw said...

Be careful if she invites you to a card game.