[https://i.postimg.cc/cCxYHKmN/The-Girl-who-could-taste-time.gif]

[https://i.postimg.cc/z3ZMfrnf/1.png]

'Good morning Miss Dawn.'; said the receptionist bowing her head.

'Hello, Penny, did anything arrive this morning?'; she asked in a low voice as she entered the office and stopped by the counter.

'I'm Becky. Penny doesn't work here for five years now. She got married and moved, remember?'; answered the girl with black hair tied up behind her neck. She smiled at Dawn, who raised an eyebrow.

'I asked you if I have messages, mail, anything for me, not about office gossip.'; she replied sharply.

'I'm sorry, Miss Dawn. Nothing so far.'; she added, lowering her eyes from hers.

'And get me some coffee. A matcha expresso, no sugar.'; Alice ordered.

'Yes, Miss Dawn.'

Alice walked at a fast pace to her lab, which was on the top floor. She already wore her white coat and scanned her finger.

Alice entered a room with the main focus on one high tank swirling what it seems dense black particles. The walls were made of metal plates riveted together into sheets, forming panels almost one metre wide all around the laboratory. On each side stood two long tables covered in microscopes, electron-microscopes, spectroscope tubes, glassware racks, and other apparatus.

'Hei, the queen of hearts is in the lab!'; greeted a young man standing beside Alice's table while examining a sample through a microscope lens. He had short dark hair, brown eyes under thick eyebrows, a square face, thin lips, and broad shoulders. Vihaan Goan, a multi-faceted engineer. 'Cut with its head!'; said in a theatrical tone.

'Are we done?'; replied Alice rolling her eyes.

'I still have a couple of jokes. What's the wrong, princess?'; he joked, still chuckling.

'Don't call me princess! And don't be sarcastic, either. Just do your job or leave my lab.'; she snapped irritably.

'If only life would be that easy, maybe call daddy. Oh, wait! That's right. He doesn't care. Uh, that must hurt.'; he remarked with volunteer sarcasm, again.

She turned toward him and slapped his hand away from the microscope slide. 'Keep your filthy paws off my samples!'

'Your samples? Grow up, princess. Those samples belong to my boss for who I work, remember?' he muttered, quickly stepping back. 'Oh, before I forgot, your request for human trial was denied.'; he added: 'Again.'

'What are you talking about?!'; she exclaimed angrily.

'They rejected your appeal. We can't test further. It's dead.'

'But it works!'; she shouted. 'It worked!'

'You can't send them a report where you tested on yourself, princess. They would close the lab in no time.'; he explained. 'You’ll have to find something else. Maybe you need to stop and rethink this whole project.'

'This was his work. I don't want to lose it. And it works! You know it works.' She stubbornly pointed to her chest.

Vihaan turned his stool to face the tank containing a vortex of black particles swirling at 220km per hour. 'You don't know what that thing is, where it comes from and what it can actually do. What data do you have so far?'

'Well…', she began: 'We found out it exists in anybody as a marker on the DNA. And each one has its values.'

'Wrong, princess. You found some mice who don't have it.'; he interrupted. 'So, there is no universal standard for it. It varies among people, animals and even plants.'; he said.

'You and I have it!'

'I have a marker of 0.2%'. It is nothing.'; Vihaan countered.

'56%, the mice sampled went from 60 to 80%. It cures cancer. It stops cells from the ageing process. This is a...'; Alice paused.

'A jump into the dark. You don't know. And you can't open a case just using your data.'; Vihaan stated firmly.

Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

'We could use you.'; she suggested.

'No way, princess.'; he declared. 'I'm good, thank you. Go find yourself a guinea pig.'; he said.

'This could safe the world.'; she pleaded.

'Dawn, you need to let it go. You tried several times. No means no. It may be time you focus on other ways to save the world.'

'I don't want to let him go again.'; she whispered sadly. 'Not again.'

----------------------------------------

She didn't want to go today, but there she was, parking the car in front of the school building. She lighted up a cigarette, brushing her hair out of her face. She couldn't remember the last time she felt utterly defeated. 'Fuck!'

She opened the car door drop the burned bud to the ground, and there she was again, at a sad meeting of frustrated and unhappy grown-ups. *Just play your part, Alice. Just play your part.*

She sat on her usual chair and saw everyone sitting down. Even he, the man in the suit, he couldn't show more how detached he was from everything and anything around him.

'Well, good evening, everyone. I'm delighted to see everyone back. It is a great accomplishment to join this room. And it is a step further for growth, so today, let's hear from Eske. Eske, the floor is yours.'; the counsellor looked at him. Eske was playing once more on his phone. He looked up reluctantly, looking around nervously like some little boy afraid of being scolded by an adult.

Eske put his phone back in his pocket: 'Do I really need to talk?'

'No, you don't have to, but everyone already did. Won't you try to share with us why you're here?' The counsellor smiled encouragingly.

'I'm on parole. That is why I'm here.' His voice sounded thin and dry. No other words came into Eske's mind except those ones. They seemed inadequate but made people laugh.

'Would you like to elaborate?'

'I got into a fight and broke that idiot's jaw. Got arrested, and here I am.'

The counsellor nodded: 'Go on, we are all listening.'

Eske looked around, and his eyes ended up locking on Alice. There was some sort of silent understanding between them, as they were the only ones to speak the same language. At least, that is how Alice felt.

'My girlfriend disappeared many years ago. I’m starting to lose count. I don't know what happened. I don't know if she'll come back. I don't know what to do. I started to be in survival mode. Everything became dull, all days were the same, and life just tasted like paper, I guess. I end up becoming a math teacher. So, I work here. This is my workplace.'

Everyone laughed again, and Alice did as well. She noticed he grinned, a sad short smile as if people were laughing at his own misery.

'I learned these years the difference between believing and hoping. I wake up every day hoping she comes back. I don't even care what excuse or lie she'll come up with. I couldn't care less. I just hope she comes back. But I don't believe that will happen, and as time passes and the world changes, that belief becomes stronger and heavier. And I think there is nothing sadder than to live in a world where dreams come to die.'

Alice dived deep into Eske's story. It was one of the most touching stories she had ever heard, although he never mentioned her name nor showed any sign of grief. Alice could see anger burning behind his eyes. Was it because he lost his love? Or perhaps the doubt devouring his soul made him hate himself and others? In either case, Alice wanted to say: 'I understand.'

'That's the story. Nothing else to add. I was dumped and didn't get over it. The end.'

He leaned back on his chair with nothing else to say, and Alice realised how empty the air had become after he finished speaking. No sound filled that void now but the ticking of clocks. And she could swear he inhaled the silence.

Alice saw him in front of the building, with an unlit cigarette hanging on his lips, searching in each pocket of his jacket, vest and pants. She smiled. She dug quickly in her purse and, with a firelighter, approached him: 'Maybe I can help? Again?'

'Oh, you again.'; he accepted the lighter, puffed on the fag, exhaled a long line of smoke and returned it to her: 'Thanks, see you next week, I guess.'

[https://i.postimg.cc/mkFJRD1q/2.png]

[https://i.postimg.cc/6q9LFb4w/The-Girl-who-could-taste-time-2.gif]