I have a Masters in Physics. Not everyone can say that. Few people want to. Physics tends to be one of those dreaded subjects, right up there with English Grammar and Mental Arithmetic, or if you were a geek like me, Physical Education (or PE for all those Brits out there). Announcing you like Physics is the same as telling the world you have a highly infectious skin disease.
But I can’t say Physics has ever intimidated me. Physics is just a way of describing how the world works.
Or trying to at the very least.
From sub-atomic particles to the rules governing the macroscopic universe, there is a beautiful simplicity even if it doesn’t always seem that way. The language is elegant. It can be made to yield incredible results and be understood across the world.
In the extract below, Betty shows even when she’s feeling miserable there is still a little bit of scientist lurking beneath.
Betty sat on the terrace ledge and stared at the stars. Behind her, the ballroom still heaved with bodies despite the hour being past one.
The sky loomed overhead. The Great Bear lazily circled the North Star, the belt of Orion dipping below the bank of trees, all the same stars that had watched over her father’s house.
A few days ago she’d found reassurance beneath their gaze but since she’d met Edward… Her body clenched as the image of him flashed in her mind, whirling in the waltz, his coat soft against her cheek, the steady beat of his heart beneath.
She blinked into the darkness. No comfort to find now, only a vast emptiness.