Erotic Love Letter To Science (Essay, Humor)


This love was never meant to be. We weren’t even good friends, just acquaintances sitting next to each other for 10 years, since the elementary school. You did not have the same flare and appeal as the arts, literature, poetry, or music did. You also played hard to get, always highlighting that you weren’t a cheap date. Occasionally I’d make an ill-informed attempt at flirting, but you’d just thump your nose at me. “What a stupid thing to say!”, you’d say.

Eventually I realized that I am not good enough for you. I accepted it, not without bitterness, but I managed. I moved on to other affairs and other relationships, and married myself to your close cousin  – the law.

Seven years into the marriage, I realized that something was missing. My loved one could carry a splendid conversation, and in a sense was just as arrogant, as you once were, which definitely added charm to the mix. My loved one could explain how to live in this world, but could never explain, what this world truly was. The law really didn’t care about the truth. It was good enough to describe the rules in one company or in one country, or maybe in a group of countries on a good day. I’d say: “Don’t you care about Mars? What about the Andromeda Galaxy? What about my DNA? Gravity and Electromagnetism?” My loved one would not bother about such nonsense.

Time passed. One day, sitting on the beach of a luxury Dubai resort, I opened my brand new Kindle, and there were you. A man, who was hopelessly in love once, wrote love letters to you. Rumor had it, he was rejected at first, but you embraced him later. The man’s name was Albert Einstein. His love for you was passionate, inappropriate, uninhibited, and raw. Prudes judged him, but he did not care.  He passionately made love to you for hours, days, months in a row, to the point of going mad. You whispered obscene things in his ear, and he, spellbound, listened. You and him were dirty, doing it in every public space.

There, on the beach, with the G2V type yellow dwarf star radiating in my face, I was reading about Einsteins musings on photons traveling by that very star, and bending it’s course. Time is not what it seems! Space is not what it seems! I was getting either hot or aroused, or both.

At that moment, I saw you at my sight. You said:

“Would you do it with me here, in public?”

“Hell yeah!” I whispered with sun-dried lips. So what if it was an affair! So what if it was my vacation and I had better things to do. Better? Define better, because as far as I was concerned, I was in heaven! Literally! I was floating in space, weightless, casting bonds of dogma and mundane. I dared to make love to Science! Since that moment, you opened my eyes to a  whole new Kamasutra and gave me toys, enormous and minuscule, fast and slow, weak and strong. And I climaxed every time.

It never was a marriage. So what! We had no deadlines, routines and responsibilities. We did it on our own terms, and never regretted. So what if it was an affair. You say an affair, I say, ménage à trois.

By Ellie Maloney


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