It requires a very unusual mind to undertake an analysis of the obvious.
--Alfred North Whitehead
April 26th 2008
Adam had been waiting for the crosstown bus for nearly fifteen minutes, but it felt like twenty-five; he
was about ready to give up and begin walking. He didn’t have any assignments or interviews scheduled for
the day, and he had made up his mind to take care of some grocery shopping and maybe check out a
bookstore; he wasn’t in a particular hurry to get anywhere, but standing around at a bus stop wasn’t how
he wanted to start his afternoon. Leaning against the glass of the bus shelter, he meandered through a
magazine article whose subject matter he found interesting but whose writing style he found tiresome;
wishing he’d brought a better choice of reading material, he glanced upward in hopes of seeing an
approaching bus. Instead, he saw Angela.
She was casually dressed, wearing a slightly billowing flowered skirt and carrying a small black bag
slung over her right shoulder. She wore relatively flat shoes, yet seemed to be nearly six feet tall; her legs
were long, but she didn’t seem lanky or unwieldy as she stepped through the milling crowd with smooth,
lengthy strides. One arm swayed casually alongside her, but her eyes were neither distant nor unaware of
her surroundings. Her statuesque frame supported itself effortlessly and confidently.
She stopped at the bus stop…within feet of him. Adam quietly cleared his throat and buried his gaze in
his magazine, hoping he hadn’t been caught staring.
Angela pulled her bus map from her bag; through the corner of her eye she examined this man, who
seemed so intent on appearing to read his magazine. He stood at about her height; he wore slightly faded
blue jeans and a loosely fitting button down shirt; he looked fit but not particularly muscular. Though they
hadn’t yet directly interacted, she’d noticed him from several paces; he seemed to project a pleasant and
approachable manner, and she found herself wanting to speak with him. Given that it was part of her
mission to interact with terrestrials wherever convenient, she decided to.
“Excuse me, which bus are you waiting for?
Adam looked up from his magazine a bit too quickly. “Whichever one comes along is fine with me--I’m
only going to Sixth Avenue. How far do you have to go?”
“Not far.” She smiled. Now that they stood face to face, Angela realized he was actually slightly taller
than her, with eyes that were sharper than his easygoing manner first implied. Still smiling, she angled
her head toward the midday sun, which shone brightly from a cloudless blue backdrop that, to her, seemed
to suggest the infinity that lay beyond it. “It’s quite a nice day, isn’t it?”
Adam glanced toward the sky, following Angela’s gaze. He dimly regretted not choosing a snappier
outfit--but more importantly, he wondered incredulously if this woman was actually trying to make
conversation with him. She spoke with no discernible accent, she seemed around his age…and he probably
looked like a deer in headlights. A stupid deer was more like it. He made himself grin, now feeling
especially silly and almost wishing she’d never interrupted his fine and ordinary morning with the
pressure of being accosted by walking beauty. “It’s beautiful…spring is finally here. Where are you
headed on such a nice day?”
She looked to the side, glancing at the jockeying and honking traffic along Fourteenth Street. “Not
anywhere in particular, just enjoying the day. And you?”
Adam folded his magazine and tucked it under his arm, stuffing his hands into his pockets and peering
over Angela’s shoulder to see if a bus was coming. “Just the supermarket, really…maybe a bookstore.”
Adam suddenly felt about five degrees hotter; the sun was steadily intensifying, but he didn’t think the
two facts were related.
“What kind of book would you be looking for? I’ve always been a student of human history.” In truth,
she had never been particularly fond of history, terrestrial or otherwise; but she had, in her training as a
Terranaut, learned a great deal of terrestrial history and it was a subject she knew a good deal about.
“History? Interesting—I’m a journalist.” Smiling, he extended his hand. “I’m Adam, what’s your
name?”
“I’m Angela.” Smiling in return, she extended her hand and shook his. “Perhaps I could come with you
to the bookstore? Maybe you can pick out for me a few interesting things I haven’t read.”
Adam was suddenly grateful for the relatively flexible schedule of a freelance journalist--and random
days off such as this one; he had to contain himself from grinning from ear to ear. The grocery store most
certainly could wait. “Angela, I’d be happy for you to join me.” Looking down the street again, he raised
his eyebrows and then glanced back at her. “Maybe we should walk…it doesn’t look like there’s a bus
coming.”
She smiled again. “A day like this seems well suited for a walk, Adam.”
Nearly three hours later, after they had visited Adam’s favorite purveyors of New York pizza, strolled
past several landmarks and walked through about two miles of Central Park, Adam and Angela sat on a
bench in a park on the coastline of southern Manhattan. Adam sipped a fountain soda he'd been nursing
for about ten minutes, and Angela was contentedly working on a cup of ice cream. When she was nearly
done, she set the remainder of her ice cream at her feet and tilted her head toward the sun again; she
closed her eyes and a relaxed grin stretched across her face. Adam turned to look at her. "So in the short
amount of time you’ve been in New York City, what do you make of it?"
She opened her eyes and turned to face Adam, then wrinkled her brow and looked into the sky behind
his head. "It's...helped to alter my outlook somewhat."
Adam took a sip of his soda and studied Angela’s eyes. "How do you mean?"
Her eyes dropped to meet Adam’s, narrowing slightly as she considered his question, and she sat
upright and shifted to face him more squarely. She crossed her outside leg over the leg nearer to him,
flashing a hint of a well-muscled calf that he couldn’t help but notice; he silently instructed himself to
maintain eye contact as she continued speaking. "It's difficult to explain, really. It shows me aspects of
humankind that I didn't think of or see very often in the past."
Adam nodded. "I can definitely see that. This city has a peculiar energy...it's a unique place in many
respects. I mean I haven't seen as many places in America as it sounds like you have, so I probably don't
have to explain much to you…"
Angela interjected, gently laying a finger on his forearm. "Actually Adam, I somewhat disagree. I
haven't seen as much as you may think. If possible, I'd like you to tell me and show me whatever you can
about New York City." Angela paused and her expression grew even more thoughtful. "I feel as if I've
learned a fair amount in my short time here. My impression of humankind has been formed by...well, it
occurs to me that the sources have been questionable. My travels across America have helped me to
reconsider my preconceptions, but Manhattan has so far had the greatest effect of any city I have seen. I
think you may be able to further that effect...though I'm not yet certain that such a change of opinion is
for the best." Angela propped her elbows on her knees. “Adam, would you say that people are essentially
good?”
“Now that’s a broad question.”
“I’m sorry. I mean—do you believe that people have a certain type of nature, outside of the influence
of their society or surroundings?”
“Well, I think I tend to believe that people basically want to be good, it’s just a matter of the situations
you put them in and maybe the pressures you put them under. Bad barrels make bad apples, so to speak.
Why do you ask?”
She turned and fixed her eyes on the skyline. “Because I’m becoming more and more aware of the
things that human society, specifically, is capable of.” Her eyes narrowed again. “I was raised to view
human nature quite—I believe the expression is ‘cynically’, and—now I am beginning to understand that
human beings are capable of fantastic achievements, even when their society and surroundings don’t
encourage greatness.”
Adam nodded. “I think that’s true. But at the same time, society has to evolve in order for humankind
to evolve…otherwise we’re just dependent on outliers, on the occasional outstanding person of genius or
conscience, to bring us along. And even then, sometimes the occasional person of genius doesn’t have
much conscience.” He chuckled. “Or the occasional person of conscience doesn’t have much genius. So I
guess it takes both: individuals who rise above their surroundings, and also society moving forward and
becoming more progressive and hopeful.” He paused to look at Angela, who was listening to him while still
staring at the architectural wonders of the city. “Does that help?”
Angela turned to face him again; her eyes still had a distant, almost star-struck look. She blinked
twice, smiled at Adam and slid a bit closer to him on the bench. “It does, Adam. I think it’s a pity more
people don’t think of these things. Maybe if they did, things would be different; maybe if they did…”
Angela trailed off and began to frown slightly. She no longer seemed to appreciate, or even notice, the
steady breeze that continued to blow her hair away from her face; her mind seemed to be elsewhere. After
several seconds, Adam nudged her arm and she looked up.
"Hey, is something wrong?"
“I'm sorry." Angela sat upright. “It's been a very long trip, and I'm fatigued." She offered a weak but
genuine smile. "How about we walk some more?" She glanced down at the melted sludge that was once
the last few spoonfuls of her ice cream; she then raised her eyebrows and grinned. “Apparently, my ice
cream is already finished.”
"I guess it’s time, then." He stood up, and she followed his lead. As they began to walk away from the
bench, turned to face her. "Are you sure you're all right?"
Angela smiled; it felt like a long time since someone seemed genuinely concerned with her personal
well being for reasons not related to the Terra Project. "I'm fine, Adam. I'm really enjoying myself; thank
you for showing me around New York." Reaching to her side, she took his hand--something she might not
have envisioned herself doing with anyone, much less a terrestrial, only a few weeks ago.
Adam smiled in return; what an unexpectedly pleasant day this was shaping up to be. "Let's walk then."
--Alfred North Whitehead
April 26th 2008
Adam had been waiting for the crosstown bus for nearly fifteen minutes, but it felt like twenty-five; he
was about ready to give up and begin walking. He didn’t have any assignments or interviews scheduled for
the day, and he had made up his mind to take care of some grocery shopping and maybe check out a
bookstore; he wasn’t in a particular hurry to get anywhere, but standing around at a bus stop wasn’t how
he wanted to start his afternoon. Leaning against the glass of the bus shelter, he meandered through a
magazine article whose subject matter he found interesting but whose writing style he found tiresome;
wishing he’d brought a better choice of reading material, he glanced upward in hopes of seeing an
approaching bus. Instead, he saw Angela.
She was casually dressed, wearing a slightly billowing flowered skirt and carrying a small black bag
slung over her right shoulder. She wore relatively flat shoes, yet seemed to be nearly six feet tall; her legs
were long, but she didn’t seem lanky or unwieldy as she stepped through the milling crowd with smooth,
lengthy strides. One arm swayed casually alongside her, but her eyes were neither distant nor unaware of
her surroundings. Her statuesque frame supported itself effortlessly and confidently.
She stopped at the bus stop…within feet of him. Adam quietly cleared his throat and buried his gaze in
his magazine, hoping he hadn’t been caught staring.
Angela pulled her bus map from her bag; through the corner of her eye she examined this man, who
seemed so intent on appearing to read his magazine. He stood at about her height; he wore slightly faded
blue jeans and a loosely fitting button down shirt; he looked fit but not particularly muscular. Though they
hadn’t yet directly interacted, she’d noticed him from several paces; he seemed to project a pleasant and
approachable manner, and she found herself wanting to speak with him. Given that it was part of her
mission to interact with terrestrials wherever convenient, she decided to.
“Excuse me, which bus are you waiting for?
Adam looked up from his magazine a bit too quickly. “Whichever one comes along is fine with me--I’m
only going to Sixth Avenue. How far do you have to go?”
“Not far.” She smiled. Now that they stood face to face, Angela realized he was actually slightly taller
than her, with eyes that were sharper than his easygoing manner first implied. Still smiling, she angled
her head toward the midday sun, which shone brightly from a cloudless blue backdrop that, to her, seemed
to suggest the infinity that lay beyond it. “It’s quite a nice day, isn’t it?”
Adam glanced toward the sky, following Angela’s gaze. He dimly regretted not choosing a snappier
outfit--but more importantly, he wondered incredulously if this woman was actually trying to make
conversation with him. She spoke with no discernible accent, she seemed around his age…and he probably
looked like a deer in headlights. A stupid deer was more like it. He made himself grin, now feeling
especially silly and almost wishing she’d never interrupted his fine and ordinary morning with the
pressure of being accosted by walking beauty. “It’s beautiful…spring is finally here. Where are you
headed on such a nice day?”
She looked to the side, glancing at the jockeying and honking traffic along Fourteenth Street. “Not
anywhere in particular, just enjoying the day. And you?”
Adam folded his magazine and tucked it under his arm, stuffing his hands into his pockets and peering
over Angela’s shoulder to see if a bus was coming. “Just the supermarket, really…maybe a bookstore.”
Adam suddenly felt about five degrees hotter; the sun was steadily intensifying, but he didn’t think the
two facts were related.
“What kind of book would you be looking for? I’ve always been a student of human history.” In truth,
she had never been particularly fond of history, terrestrial or otherwise; but she had, in her training as a
Terranaut, learned a great deal of terrestrial history and it was a subject she knew a good deal about.
“History? Interesting—I’m a journalist.” Smiling, he extended his hand. “I’m Adam, what’s your
name?”
“I’m Angela.” Smiling in return, she extended her hand and shook his. “Perhaps I could come with you
to the bookstore? Maybe you can pick out for me a few interesting things I haven’t read.”
Adam was suddenly grateful for the relatively flexible schedule of a freelance journalist--and random
days off such as this one; he had to contain himself from grinning from ear to ear. The grocery store most
certainly could wait. “Angela, I’d be happy for you to join me.” Looking down the street again, he raised
his eyebrows and then glanced back at her. “Maybe we should walk…it doesn’t look like there’s a bus
coming.”
She smiled again. “A day like this seems well suited for a walk, Adam.”
Nearly three hours later, after they had visited Adam’s favorite purveyors of New York pizza, strolled
past several landmarks and walked through about two miles of Central Park, Adam and Angela sat on a
bench in a park on the coastline of southern Manhattan. Adam sipped a fountain soda he'd been nursing
for about ten minutes, and Angela was contentedly working on a cup of ice cream. When she was nearly
done, she set the remainder of her ice cream at her feet and tilted her head toward the sun again; she
closed her eyes and a relaxed grin stretched across her face. Adam turned to look at her. "So in the short
amount of time you’ve been in New York City, what do you make of it?"
She opened her eyes and turned to face Adam, then wrinkled her brow and looked into the sky behind
his head. "It's...helped to alter my outlook somewhat."
Adam took a sip of his soda and studied Angela’s eyes. "How do you mean?"
Her eyes dropped to meet Adam’s, narrowing slightly as she considered his question, and she sat
upright and shifted to face him more squarely. She crossed her outside leg over the leg nearer to him,
flashing a hint of a well-muscled calf that he couldn’t help but notice; he silently instructed himself to
maintain eye contact as she continued speaking. "It's difficult to explain, really. It shows me aspects of
humankind that I didn't think of or see very often in the past."
Adam nodded. "I can definitely see that. This city has a peculiar energy...it's a unique place in many
respects. I mean I haven't seen as many places in America as it sounds like you have, so I probably don't
have to explain much to you…"
Angela interjected, gently laying a finger on his forearm. "Actually Adam, I somewhat disagree. I
haven't seen as much as you may think. If possible, I'd like you to tell me and show me whatever you can
about New York City." Angela paused and her expression grew even more thoughtful. "I feel as if I've
learned a fair amount in my short time here. My impression of humankind has been formed by...well, it
occurs to me that the sources have been questionable. My travels across America have helped me to
reconsider my preconceptions, but Manhattan has so far had the greatest effect of any city I have seen. I
think you may be able to further that effect...though I'm not yet certain that such a change of opinion is
for the best." Angela propped her elbows on her knees. “Adam, would you say that people are essentially
good?”
“Now that’s a broad question.”
“I’m sorry. I mean—do you believe that people have a certain type of nature, outside of the influence
of their society or surroundings?”
“Well, I think I tend to believe that people basically want to be good, it’s just a matter of the situations
you put them in and maybe the pressures you put them under. Bad barrels make bad apples, so to speak.
Why do you ask?”
She turned and fixed her eyes on the skyline. “Because I’m becoming more and more aware of the
things that human society, specifically, is capable of.” Her eyes narrowed again. “I was raised to view
human nature quite—I believe the expression is ‘cynically’, and—now I am beginning to understand that
human beings are capable of fantastic achievements, even when their society and surroundings don’t
encourage greatness.”
Adam nodded. “I think that’s true. But at the same time, society has to evolve in order for humankind
to evolve…otherwise we’re just dependent on outliers, on the occasional outstanding person of genius or
conscience, to bring us along. And even then, sometimes the occasional person of genius doesn’t have
much conscience.” He chuckled. “Or the occasional person of conscience doesn’t have much genius. So I
guess it takes both: individuals who rise above their surroundings, and also society moving forward and
becoming more progressive and hopeful.” He paused to look at Angela, who was listening to him while still
staring at the architectural wonders of the city. “Does that help?”
Angela turned to face him again; her eyes still had a distant, almost star-struck look. She blinked
twice, smiled at Adam and slid a bit closer to him on the bench. “It does, Adam. I think it’s a pity more
people don’t think of these things. Maybe if they did, things would be different; maybe if they did…”
Angela trailed off and began to frown slightly. She no longer seemed to appreciate, or even notice, the
steady breeze that continued to blow her hair away from her face; her mind seemed to be elsewhere. After
several seconds, Adam nudged her arm and she looked up.
"Hey, is something wrong?"
“I'm sorry." Angela sat upright. “It's been a very long trip, and I'm fatigued." She offered a weak but
genuine smile. "How about we walk some more?" She glanced down at the melted sludge that was once
the last few spoonfuls of her ice cream; she then raised her eyebrows and grinned. “Apparently, my ice
cream is already finished.”
"I guess it’s time, then." He stood up, and she followed his lead. As they began to walk away from the
bench, turned to face her. "Are you sure you're all right?"
Angela smiled; it felt like a long time since someone seemed genuinely concerned with her personal
well being for reasons not related to the Terra Project. "I'm fine, Adam. I'm really enjoying myself; thank
you for showing me around New York." Reaching to her side, she took his hand--something she might not
have envisioned herself doing with anyone, much less a terrestrial, only a few weeks ago.
Adam smiled in return; what an unexpectedly pleasant day this was shaping up to be. "Let's walk then."
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