The Physics of Marriage by Simon Steven
Dad closes the physics schoolbook. His daughter crosses her arms.
‘I don’t understand,’ he says, sinking into his seat.
‘Right! My teacher says the way the solar system was created is much like a husband having illicit sex with someone else twice his size.’
‘What?’
‘A penis and vagina in space’.
Dad turns porcelain. He looks for Mum.
‘Now! Listen and learn … a flirtatious lady plus a cheating husband equals attraction. A larger body will attract smaller bodies, it’s a question of mass. The greater the mass, the bigger the planet or star. Hence, chubby chasers are attracted to massive ladies. The fatter the girl the greater the pull. Moreover, more mass equals more satellites or children which homewreckers can safely support under their own gravity. Or as Miss puts it, like a gravitational child-sucking husband thief.’
Dad’s eyes shatter like safety glass.
‘Miss said, massive planets can interfere with the orbits of other planets and fling celestial bodies, including Miss’s marriage, out of solar systems. However, Miss did say that she would see her kids again, no matter what, just like returning comets on an elliptical trajectory. It’s all about gravity, or as Miss puts it, custody.’
Dad spots Mum hiding her head in a kitchen cupboard.
‘Apparently, space is silent and void of heat. Miss says courtrooms share the same physical principles, as do the hearts of certain women.’
Dad can only focus on one fact. Is there enough room in that cupboard for both of them.
‘Lastly, once a body has gained sufficient mass, it can collapse under its own gravity and initiate nuclear fusion — a star is born. Much the same as a cheating husband having unprotected sex. The temperature is raised and a baby is born.’
Dad shakes, looking at his twelve-year-old daughter and then back through the kitchen door to Mum. Mum has left the safety of the cupboard and is coming his way. Mum to the rescue. She will save the day. She will know exactly how to change the subject and return Dad to the man he once was.
Dad raises a weakened arm like a downed tag team wrestler.
Mum solemnly smiles, sticks her tongue out and closes the kitchen door.
Simon Steven lives and writes out of Norfolk England. He has publications as a feature writer and in flash fiction. Simon’s varied stories love to paddle in the pool of the human condition. That’s when they’re not diving into the dark depths of despair and misery in search of an alternative light source.
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