Nov/Dec 2017 • Vol. XXXIX No. 6 Fiction |

But Right Now You Must Know More about Heaven

It was hard to say how old it was. It would depend on when it began. It would depend on when you started counting. It could have existed for a long time now, depending. Or it could be new. If you could hear when it began, what would it sound like? If that sound was traveling away from the earth, where was it now? Sound travels at 1234.8 kilometers per hour, and the moon is 384 thousand kilometers away. Had their beginning reached the moon? He wanted to take a slow drive out to the radio telescopes in Carnarvon. Through the autumnal quilting of the winelands, through all the Karoos, past the optical telescope in Sutherland. Through Calvinia, where there'd been a total eclipse in the 1940s, and into the ancient interior where, from the very first of men we have turned to the stars for our myths and gods. "Forward in technology, back in time," he liked to say. "I'm easy," she liked to say, and so she went along: forward in technology and back in time, riding in the passenge

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Photo of Anna Hartford
Anna Hartford is a writer based in Cape Town.

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