[https://i.postimg.cc/cCxYHKmN/The-Girl-who-could-taste-time.gif]
There were days Nona hated her job. The headsets became heavier, the voices on the other side louder and meaner and a constant echo of silent muffling screams in the back of her head. She wanted to scream out, shout back, and call them names, but she couldn't. She would smile behind the monitor and nod her head. 'Yes, I understand, Sir, yes I can perfectly understand the frustration. Yes, I would be mad as well, but...'; they wouldn't let her talk, explain, or even try to figure out what was wrong. So she simply agreed. Smiled and said yes until it was time to clock off. She drank the last drop of coffee that tasted funny.
Almost like time itself. As if it was burned and ashy. Did coffee always taste like this? No, probably not, but the sensation was somehow different, wasn't it? She turned the desk chair, looking around her home office and couldn't see Schrodinger. She went to the living room and kitchen and even looked under the bed, and nothing. He didn't have the habit of leaving the house, at least not without telling her. But she must admit to herself that he is still a cat and will behave like one.
Nona went to the kitchen. She was feeling peckish and grabbed an apple. A small innocent red apple which Nona gave a massive bite. As soon the juice spread on her tongue she could feel the gag punching her throat. She spat on her sink and held her mouth with both hands. Her heart raced. Was this how it felt when you were about to throw up? It did seem so. Her mouth was infected with the taste of rotten sour flesh with a punch of sweetness that would cling to the back of her tongue. Nona tried to breathe. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Slowly, now.
It wasn't the first time this would happen. Nona can't remember the last time she ate something she would cook, forcing her to purchase delivered food. She opened the almost empty fridge, but there was a forsaken pack of sliced cheese. Nona took one and bite on it carefully. This time it was unavoidable. She threw up on her own feet. A pungent taste of sweet alkaloids as if seasoned with sweet rotten eggs.
She looked at the mess she did and grabbed a mop, trying to hold her gag.
Eventually, she spent an hour with her head almost sinking into the toilet, vomiting what she didn't have. She ended up exhausted, curled in her bathroom, waiting for her stomach to calm down and convincing herself she needed to shower.
She took her clothes off, a sweater and shorts with two holes and a stain of who-knows-what, and looked at herself naked. Almost as if it was the first time she saw herself. Her face was boring, typical girl next door but with dull grey hair. On her right arm, she had two tattoos. And it felt weird like she didn't use to have them. The first one, next to her wrist, was a perfect square made with four letters: N P E S
[https://i.postimg.cc/DystXhLJ/NEPS-1.png]
'Pens?'; she mumbled to herself. 'Why would I...'; she looked at the second tattoo .159265359, she didn't remember what it meant. But it felt sad and happy, bittersweet perhaps?
Both ink marks were small and discrete, but how could she forget. She started to inspect her body. She found a scar on her left side, probably because of her appendicitis. Wait, isn't it on the right side? But the one that disturbed her the most was the horizontal scar about 10 to 20cm long, just below her bikini line. It was thin but visible, and she had no idea where it came from. What kind of surgery did she get? Why couldn't she remember? How many times has she done this? What?
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'I'm going crazy', she whispered to herself, 'this is not me.'
She turned her shower on hot water and stood in front of the mirror while the steam covered her body. She didn't realise she couldn't hear the water splashing. Or the hair standing up behind her neck, nor she understood the dry, overcooked flesh seasoned in sand and ash. Or the smell of intense gas in the air, Zyklon B gas.
When Nona placed herself under the showerhead, she didn't notice black particles flying out of her mouth. The silence didn't disturb her. She tried to relax, feeling the hot water sliding on her skin until her throat was burning. She turned to grab her towel when she saw it. A little girl in what looked like grey-listed pyjamas holding her throat, coughing. Like Nona, she couldn't breathe.
Nona fell at the feet of the child, trying to gasp any air, but her eyes, nose and mouth were burning as if inhaling acid. She didn't understand where those large hands came from. One on her mouth with a wet cloth and the other carrying her out of the bathroom. Her vision was becoming blurry, but she could hear him: 'Hold on, baby, hold on.'; the voice kept repeating. She knew he was lying her on the bed. She knew she was being slapped on her face a couple of times: 'Nona, come on, Nona, please say something. Baby!'
She was unable to move. It was as if each of her muscles were petrifying. She couldn't even feel the air passing through her nostrils. Then she felt the fresh touch of peppermint against her lips. Nona really liked the taste of peppermint. The taste was so cooling that eventually, it made her cough grasping air rising down her lungs.
'You can't scare me like that, love of my life. I'm going to have a heart attack one of these days.'; said the voice. A voice that smoothed her in a way that felt like home. 'Let me catch something to wear.'; he said.
He pushed down her head an oversized sweater: 'You are going to catch a cold.'; as he was helping her get dressed, she noticed his arm with a faded tattoo and the numbers pierced as if by a toddler: .159265359
And at the wrist, N P E S, just like her.
Her vision slowly started to focus, and she saw a man with long black hair and golden-yellow eyes sitten on the bed with her. His face was so stern, but his voice was so smooth: 'Breathe baby, just breathe, okay. Don't worry about the bathroom, I'll clean it. Okay? Can you lie down for me? I help you.'
'When am I?'; she asked in a brief but sudden lucidity.
'.502884197.'; he replied, brushing her wet hair off her face. 'But you are also downloading .604241965. We are at 99.8%. Do you understand me, my love?'
Nona shook her head: 'No.'
He chuckled: 'Is alright. Don't worry. I'm not leaving your side anymore. Going to be as clingy as possible.'
'I lost my cat, Ecke.'; she mumbled, balancing her head over the pillow.
Ecke lost it and started to laugh: 'Your cat is here, love of my life.' He removed his shoes and lay next to the girl who could taste time. 'But we can get a cat if you want. Think Ava would love it.'
'I'm so tired.'
'I know, you always get fuzzy at the end of a download. In a couple of hours, you'll feel yourself again.'; Eske pulled Nona against his chest, kissing the top of her head.
'Tell me a story.'
'You want a story?'
Nona nodded her hair, placing her arm around his torso.
'Do you want to hear the story of the boy who could hear numbers?'
'Does it has a happy ending?'
Ecke smiled and whispered: 'It still has the happiest ending.'
[https://i.postimg.cc/6q9LFb4w/The-Girl-who-could-taste-time-2.gif]