Sunday 20 March 2011

6 comments:

kateab20 March 2011 at 20:18
Wow. Love it!
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Ian Hewett20 March 2011 at 20:27
Aw, bless yer. :)
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LA20 March 2011 at 21:41
Beautiful photo! Is this your first Silent Sunday too?
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Ian Hewett20 March 2011 at 21:57
Thank you! Yep, this is my first.

I took the pic of the moon on Friday night (not "Supermoon" night but the night before), using a telescope and a digital camera. An hour later, I took a picture of Saturn (which didn't quite work :) ).
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overthehillmum21 March 2011 at 00:14
I think that is the best photo of the moon I've seen. So clear.
Welcome to Silent Sunday :)
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Ian Hewett21 March 2011 at 00:46
Thank you! And thank you!
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Children's Television: The Re-Imagining

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Ulysses 31

The Odyssey drifted soundlessly through the void, its captain tired but happy. Despite all the evidence, he'd never really considered how their adventures seemed to recall ancient Greek mythology. The clues were always there, to be fair, but Ulysses was usually too busy preening to think about it, his flowing locks and Richard Stilgoe beard the most important things in the universe. Since putting two and two together (realising that he was called Ulysses was quite a large clue), he abandoned his quest to save his crew, and searched the galaxy for those more colourful aspects of ancient Greece that he'd read about on the, um, Space Internet.

The past fortnight, they'd spent time on the planet Dionysia 5, in the city of Orgion. Perhaps not the best of things to expose Telemachus to at his age, but what sort of father would he be if he didn't, somehow, explain the birds and the bees? Here he now stood on the bridge of his ship, the echoes of his son's vomiting echoing along the bulkhead, Ulysses headed to his quarters, passing the telepathic Yumi. She paused to read his mind, screamed, and ran down the corridor in floods of tears. Ulysses decided to have a cold shower.

He reached his quarters, the shame of a fortnight's debauchery weighing heavily on his conscience. There, sprawled coquettishly on his bed, was the creepy little robot Nono, as apt a name as any right now, as he made suggestive gestures with a rusty screw. Ulysses felt nauseous, slightly concerned at the burning itch that had flared up.

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Sunday 20 March 2011

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Ulysses 31

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Sunday 20 March 2011

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