Monday, November 06, 2006

Constance Kreisel, unsung expert on the science of circles, stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her. Those years of consuming textbook upon textbook of geometry, modern retellings of the ancient Greek hypotheses, had made him aware of more nuances of the curvature than any mathematician alive. And these took form in her.

"Forgive me if I am somewhat forward," he spoke to her as he approached, "but I wish to pay you a compliment." She turned her oval eyes to him and formed her lips into a crescentine smile.

"You remind me distinctly of Pi," he said.

"Thank you. Some boys say I remind them of cherry pie. Which flavor do you like best?"

"I wished to imply it in the mathematical sense - you see, the ratio of a circle's circumference to its diameter, as a value, has no precise expression. But it is known as Pi. For my part, I find no words sufficient to fully express your impressions on me. Hence my reference to Pi."

"I'm not used to such intellectual conversations with the boys I meet. What's your name?"

Constance was too enamored to answer. "I like apple pie best," he told her instead, his gaze swimming in the circular symmetry of her face.

"So do I!" she winked, "But please tell me more about Pi."

The invitation ignited a blaze within him. His eyes strayed over her bodily contour as he struggled to retain control of his concentration. He expounded the theory of calculus, with theorems read from her curves. Back and forth he paced like a lecturer in slow and erratic half-orbit around her. She stood enthralled as he delved past differentials and into integrals. As he spoke he scanned the subtle convexity of her hindmost region. From there his gaze slid upwards along the concave arc of her nether back, to linger on the slight cove beneath her shoulders. He explained the theories of volume, her attention entirely his. The rising slopes familiar on the upper torso of females glowed through the twofold coverings she bore - one of her pink blouse and subsequently of her amply long hair dangling like loose strands of an ellipsoid. This he saw, and more. Inspired he was now, to define her form as an equation of irrational numbers: with divisions by zero, and square roots of negative values - a coup in numeric expression! He longed to hear her voice again but realized he must stop talking first.

"That was beautiful what you shared with me. I'm actually quite interested in math, especially in the application of vector algebra to spatial displacement!" she said, looking straight into his eyes - "Would you like to get into that?"

He glanced briefly heavenward, perhaps on an impulse of gratitude towards the God of Mathematics. It was then that he spotted the balloons fixed to the wall near the ceiling. They were perfect. One a deep blue. The other lavender. Twins of mismatched color and size.

"Excuse me," he told the girl. "But I just recalled a prior engagement." He nodded a quick farewell, then brushed past her, straight to the balloons, which he dismounted from their position to take with him as he left the room. He returned home and slipped into bed, embracing the bulbous forms as if they were teddy bears. He slept that night content in his warm bed, dreaming of inflatable spheres.

Story #379

Thanks Cheesemeister for your story! Anyone else with a spontaneous idea: more are welcome!

P.S. Go over to Pansifiles. The Pansi dolls are trying to find jobs or something.


Cie Cheesemeister said...

Celine was enjoying her brother Hank's birthday party, but wondered how she could catch the attention of his cute friend Will. When she was younger, it had been cool having a brother who was ten years older than she. It was still cool that he could drive her places and she could tell him things that she couldn't tell mom and dad. But now, at fifteen, his friends were starting to look good to her, especially Will. It was so tough that Will was her gymnastics coach. She had to keep a professional attitude when the team was practicing, but every time he touched her to help guide her through a move, the butterflies went into a flurry in her stomach and her heart felt as if it would explode.
"Celine, smile pretty for me," Will said, immortalizing his protegee's million dollar grin.
Will thanked Celine and slipped off into the crowd to get more photos. Celine, still smiling, was unaware that Will's younger brother Charlie was watching her, struck dumb by her beauty. Too shy to speak to Celine, Charlie proceeded to make an ass of himself by showing Celine's eight-year-old brother Roger his ability to do armpit farts to the tune of the Star-Spangled Banner.
Celine rolled her eyes and ran off to try and impress Will with her maturity. Boys her own age were so stupid, she sighed. They just didn't have a clue.

Indeterminacy said...

Cheesemeister, your story is so real! And for some reason it makes me a little homesick for a place where the story could happen with all the details you used.

My story will be strange. ;-)

Anonymous said...

good story cheesemeister.

one of these days I will have time to do one but Inde I'm sure you know how it goes...never enough time in the day.

Indeterminacy said...

Hi Cooper - no worries, and what would I say anyway? I still have two unwritten stories to catch up on. It's always grand when you stop by.

Frances bo bancess said...

Cheesemeister, your story has such a familiar feel to it, though i've never really read anything like it. But I can definatly relate to Celine.

On another note, when dealing with complex numbers, the square root of -1 is the imaginary number, 'i'. so you can take the square root of a negative number, you just have to be outside the box of real numbers. which i think is kind of romantic in itself.

Hobbes said...

Thanks for helping the ungrateful Barbies, Indie.

Indeterminacy said...

Hi Mrs. Weirsdo: The Barbie-Pansis will probably find jobs. I've noticed a real upsurge in hits for "naked gymnasitcs" - seems to be all the rage these days. It's moved to number one spot:

9 25.71% naked gymnastics
6 17.14% strip poker stories
2 5.71% naked gymnast

Enemy of the Republic said...

I've missed your page. I just haven't been in a story frame of mind. But so many people latched onto the point that you made that I think I'll do a post on it. Hope you are well.

Black Angel said...

you have a nice blog. thanks for visinting me!
Portuguese black angel...

Cie Cheesemeister said...

Thanks to everyone who complimented my story! I guess it may seem real because I've been in a similar position to Celine--not cute or gymnastically inclined but chasing a fellow who saw me as a little sister, oblivious to the possibility of boys my own age, who I saw as immature dorks.

I am measuring the hypotenuse of Indie's story with my protractor while listening to the Warrant song "Cherry Pie" and eating a piece of cherry pie at the same time.
Seriously, it was a fun read!

Indeterminacy said...

Enemy: I had to go back and remind myself what the comment was. It's what you wrote that struck a chord with us, I think. I merely responded to that.

Black Angel: Thank you. Your Pleasuredome is a pleasure to visit.

Cheesemeister: Of all the stories posted here yours is the wisest I can remember. I've noticed quite often in girls just under 20 that they are more attracted to boys a few years older than they are because the boys of the same age are just too immature. It seems to be a natural (and international!)phenomenon.

Hobbes said...

Do you think your stories are getting longer, Indie?

I was sort of surprised that he could go for the balloons after all that complex poetry about the girl.

Indeterminacy said...

Hi Mrs W. I think the longer my stories get, the more likely that they will implode.

(compared to the days of the daily stories, I think the weekly ones are getting longer. I wanted to submit a few more to that Spanish E-zine that translated some of my stories before, but I can't find anything else under their 250 word limit!)

Hobbes said...

Oh, and Cheesemeister, I represent your belittlement of musical talent!

The Mushroom said...

"Just like a man," Constance said with a light stamp of her foot, "leaving an aestheic natural shape for an artificial 'perfect' shape. He can sleep with those balloons, but he'll be sad when they're misshapen in the morning."
She walked right up to the wallflower, who shyly admitted his name was Jonathan, and asked him in her coquettish tone, "Do you know how to calculate the length of a hypotenuse?"
Jonathan looked a little puzzled and pushed his glasses up his nose. "Uh, I think I've heard of a, uh, hy-pot-tee-noose, but don't know what it is. Why?"
She wrapped her arms around his neck and stage-whispered, "Come with me. I want to see if that's really as long as c² between your right-angle legs."
Jonathan was confused but obedient.

Cie Cheesemeister said...

The Mushroom appears to be getting even deeper into the geometry aspect. Had The Mushroom gone further with this thought, the post would have to be rated x3. Or perhaps 3x.
Weirdso, from what I understand, you ARE musically talented! Death Cheese represents musical talentlessness that deserves full belittling.

Indeterminacy said...

Mush: I miss your stories! And I'm glad of the continuation. It would be lovely to find a gal into trig.

Unknown said...

So glad I didn't try to write on this picture. I've never seen a story fit the photo that well and it was a great piece of humor.

It's good to imagine that line worked once for someone. Autism really can be debilitating.

Indeterminacy said...

Hey Doug, after trying around 380 times, I was bound to get a match sooner or later. Oh, you did mean my story, didn't you?