I was out on the beach just before sunset. She came up to me and smiled. It was the summer before my nine-hundredth year—I didn't quite know how to react. Everything was new then. I held out the roses like a shield.

And she said, "Roses, how romantic!"

"Yes," I nodded eagerly, "definitely! They arouse in our noses a thousand rich receptors. Release those wonderful molecules known as 'pheromones' into the air. That is why they smell so good."

She held one out between her fingers and twirled it by the stem. And we stared out silently over the ocean. We stared out over the waves, sun-cast red.

"Oh," she sighed, "look at that moon! So beautiful, and the night never-ending. It's so romantic." She cuddled next to me. "I'm out of breath already!"

I stiffened. "Yes, the diameter of the moon in the sky is a constant thirty-one arcminutes—so about half a degree, which is quite evident. It would be quite wrong to assume infinite sizes."

She laid her head upon my shoulder. And we looked out over the open seas beyond. We looked out as the stars blinked above.

"Oh," she took my hand in hers, "look at how the stars sparkle! How beautiful!" And she stroked my arm in such a gentle way.

And I looked at her and said, "No, the stars do not sparkle. That would be crazy! Even though it might seem so. But really, it's just the light breaking through the layers of the upper atmosphere."

And so we sat together in silence for a while. We looked out over the open ocean beyond; we looked out as the stars blinked above. And she went home without me.


Translated from the song Romanze, by The Wise Guys.

Cover Pic (not mine): The Doctor and Rose. Tell me if ya know the artist!