Lorena Hannish was good at a lot of things: theoretical physics, applied thermodynamics, advanced calculus, and the accordion. She was good at these naturally, almost without practice. "Practice," she said, "can help hone your talents, but it won't upset natural inclinations. You can't tell that to a bunch of MIT undergrads, but there you are." When Dr. Hannish was a girl, her father insisted she play soccer. She seemed to grow less coordinated every season until a busted knee in sixth grade ended her father's athletic ambitions for her, and made sure she would never again miss an episode of NOVA. She told me the one thing she practiced, foolishly, was getting her husband, the late Dr. Clifford Hannish, to shut up and let her do the talking. She practiced for years, and with no improvement. Dr. Hannish told me all this without turning from the passenger side window, though there was nothing to see but the glow of streetlamps in the distance. She paused, then added, "So what do you think?" The doctor asked questions aggressively.
What do You think about Bastion Science Fiction Magazine - Issue 4, July 2014?
