The one with the black hole on its cover that she had been reading in another life, on the other side of the world, only yesterday.
She sensed it was her magazine, given she had always liked reading it,
and had been known – even in recent times – to buy it on the occasional spontaneous whim as no online version ever did the photos justice.
She remembered being eleven years old and looking at the photos of Svalbard, the Norwegian archipelago in the Arctic, in her dad’s copy.
It had looked so vast and desolate and powerful and she had wondered what it would have been like to be among it,
like the scientist-explorers in the article, spending their summer doing some kind of geological research.
She cut out the pictures and they ended up on the pinboard in her bedroom.
And for many years, at school, she had tried hard at science and geography just so she could be like the scientists in the article
and spend her summers among frozen mountains and fjords, as puffins flew overhead.
But after her dad died, and after reading Nietzsche’s Beyond Good and Evil,
she decided that a) Philosophy seemed to be the only subject that matched her sudden inward intensity
and b) she wanted to be a rock star more than a scientist anyway.
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