Extinct Doesn't Mean Forever by Phoenix Sullivan (bill gates book recommendations TXT) 📗

are going the way she expected them to go. How and why did something that was to be just a harmless, pleasant company — meant merely to wash away the bitterness left after weeks of fights and tears — catch her completely unawares? And does she have the right to play with an old man like that? Should she excuse herself and turn and leave?

No, that would make things even worse, hurt even more. Should she—

“Forgive me.” Professor Šaric takes Vesna by her hand and leads her from the stairs to the shore. Her feet sink, shallowly, into the soft moist sand. “I didn’t mean to worry you or anything. I do sometimes prattle. This is why I invited you here.”

Only now does Vesna notice the CD player that the professor has placed beneath the wall, safely away from the waves. “Maybe it will be somewhat of a disappointment to you, but a phonograph with a horn was really a bit too heavy to carry.” Vesna laughs at the professor’s joke while he presses the play key. Music spills from under the wall. A waltz. Vesna doesn’t recall ever having heard it before; certainly, it’s nothing she’s heard played in clubs or on the radio.

“Tchaikovsky. Some find it saccharine, but honestly, Strauss became boring to me ages ago. May I?” The professor offers Vesna his hand. She hesitates, not really knowing what to do next.

“I’m afraid I’ve never danced to this,” she admits, blushing.

“It’s easy — just let go.” The professor smiles as Vesna takes his hand. Warmth of times past streams through her palms. Times not as past as the ones in her portfolio, but nevertheless, gone forever. Times neither better nor worse than present, but lost, never to return. The professor takes Vesna around her waist and leads her across the shore. After several clumsy steps, Vesna’s feet catch their own rhythm and she and he begin flying across the sand, in harmony to the melody of the waltz, enthralled in the whirlwind of dance. The world around the professor and Vesna is no more. Gone are the warm afternoon and the chuckling white dinosaurs in the sky, the sea and the whispering trees. Only the two of them remain, dancers cocooned in a time of their own that will never pass…

But then the waltz does come to an end and the merry-go-round winds down and stops. Vesna staggers, flushed, breathless, but remaining on her feet, steadied by the professor’s hands. She bursts into joyous laughter; it’s been ages since she’s had such a good time.

“Now, take a look at the footprints, Vesna.” The professor smiles knowingly, like a teacher happy at the sight of his pupil about to grasp new knowledge, reach new levels of understanding.

~~~

They spent that entire day together, She and He, touring the coast and the forest, feeding on plentiful juicy shoots, drinking in the cool river. Occasionally, between morsels, shy at first and then becoming bolder and bolder, He’d touch Her neck with His beak. Then He tried to lick Her cheek — just one fleeting, flickering touch of His long tongue. At first, She wiggled away, waving Her powerful tail in mock warning, as if driving a boring insect away. But He was persistent. She kept evading Him, feigning annoyance. She even tried to bite Him with Her beak once, and spur Him with Her thumb spike, but She didn’t really mean it. He jumped aside and then approached Her again, licking Her and rubbing His strong body against Her side.

She moved away from Him and eyed Him from a distance, measuring Him. Then She turned away from Him, acting disinterested. She took a step deeper into the fresh forest, looking for something juicy to nibble on. And He followed close on Her heels; wherever She bit, He bit, too. As the day grew warmer, they grew closer, body next to body, feasting together.

Then He took Her even deeper into the green shade of the old forest. She let Him lead Her. She followed Him up the river, until they reached a sunny clearing among the tall sequoias: a remote and secret place only He knew about. She stopped at the edge of the clearing, as if waiting for Him to invite Her in.

The place was well-hidden from prying eyes; away from hungry jaws filled with sharp, serrated teeth. It was quiet, too. Buzzing of insects and flapping of pterosaurs’ wings were all the sounds She heard. It felt like just the spot to scrape a nest in the soft ground and fill it with dry leaves. It looked like just the perfect place to lay eggs and guard them closely until they hatched. He watched Her as She decided it was indeed an ideal place to raise offspring, to watch over them as they grew to a size when it would be safe to lead them into the hostile outside world.

That whole day, He introduced Her to His domain, in the forest by the sea, until the shadows grew long and the forest started sinking into dark.

And then She stopped and turned, following the river back to the seashore. When She heard the breaking waves, She ran through the shadows. And He ran after Her, the ground shaking as they went.

On the beach, on the very edge of the sea, She stopped and waited for Him to come to Her. Then She reared on Her hind legs. She looked at Him, a male in his prime, and He looked at Her, a young female ready to start a herd with Him. He reared, too, and they touched their forelimbs and started turning, instinctively, in slow circles. They turned and turned, in an ancient ritual whose meaning they didn’t understand, but that would forever seal the bond between them. They kept turning around each other, led by something primeval within them, their powerful legs leaving footprints in the sand.

They kept on turning as the large pterosaurs glided through the dusk, tracing circles