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THE GIRL WHO COULD TASTE TIME
02:09 - Alice, the Time Traveller’s wife

02:09 - Alice, the Time Traveller’s wife

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

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Alice didn't realise she started to smile while she put her earrings in front of the mirror and how excited she felt about putting her red lipstick on. She felt this new drill to go to the lab and start her day. Her smile was longer, the day seemed brighter, and her heart would skip a beat when he knocked on the door of her lab.

'Good morning!' said again Alice with an enthusiasm that made him laugh, for it had been so long since anyone but herself ever greeted him that way. 'What are you going to do today?' she asked, inviting him into the lab.

'Humm, nothing special. Have some grades to evaluate and such.' He smiled as if at something funny. His eyes were still shining, something she noticed that had changed in him since they started the trial.

'You look good.'

'You look too.'

'So why did you come? Missing me already?'; she flirted but tried really hard to make it sound like a joke. The grin never left his face, though.

'I guess I am missing something,' he answered thoughtfully, sitting down beside her chair: 'I came to pick up a new batch.'

'Eske, you were supposed only to pick it up in two weeks.'

He laughed nervously: 'Well, I ran out. There must have been a bad counting.'

She looked at him curiously. Alice was usually cautious about keeping track of all the batches she used during the test period. She kept them in numbered plastic bags. 'How many do you take per day?'

'One as told, maybe two. Sometimes I forget if I take them.'; Eske scratched behind his head. 'I was thinking maybe we could go out having dinner.'

'You're asking me out?'

His grin returned full force. 'Why not?'

'You always said...'; Alice looked into Eske's smiling face. 'Of course. Tonight?'

'Not tonight. I have plans. Maybe tomorrow?'

'Tomorrow is fine. Eight?'

'Eight sounds fine.'; he stood up from the chair: 'So about the batch...?'

'Oh, sure.'; Alice took one of those small black bags and pulled out a white square packet wrapped in transparent plastic. It contained 15 capsules. 'Here, one every 24h, don't overdo it.'

'One a day is clear.'; Eske nodded. Then suddenly, he turned serious again. 'Thank you, Alice.'

'In two weeks, we take new blood samples. And, are you all right? Did you have any side effects?'

Eske shrugged his shoulders: 'No problems so far.'

'Nightmares?'

'I have been sleeping like a kitty.'; his smile was wide now, almost disturbing.

Vihann looked at Eske leaving the lab in a hurry and said without looking at Alice: 'You know the guy is just playing you like a Boss.'

'I know.'; Alice replied, staring at the floor.

'Don't tell me you believe his good romantic intentions.' Vihann said. 'The man is a nutjob! He is pumping his body with who knows what. Intentionally! Just to see his dead girlfriend!'

Alice stared at the ceiling. 'It's more than that.'

'More than what?'

'He doesn't believe she is dead.' Her voice sounded very low, even to herself. 'I think...', she began, trying not to cry, 'I'm starting to fall for him.'

'You're a nutjob too. For helping him and to fall like a fucking dumb high school girl.'; Vihann looked seriously at Alice: 'He is never gonna stop, you do realise it, right?'

'Maybe I am crazy. But I can't help feeling this way.'; Alice sniffed and wiped her nose.

'You lost it. You fucking lost it, stupid woman.'; Vihann clicked his tongue: ‘At this pace, I’m going to lose my job.’

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Lesson number one, Eske needed to be comfortable lying in bed before taking the pills. It was also the scenery that would show him mostly Nona lying down next to him sleeping. He had never realised she did snore. Not too loud, but it was indeed adorable. Lesson number two, if he exceeded the dosage, he could touch her, not for long, but it was enough to feel her warm skin for a couple of seconds. Lesson number three, he would pass out, and he would be back to that market. He learned that if he didn't talk or ask any questions, she would reveal more and show more. Eske concluded that it probably was memories mixed with a dream substance. If there had been no intervention on his side, he would have had a clearer and more accurate view of Nona's early life events.

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He swallowed two pills dry. It didn't take too long for the comforting abrupt silence. Filling his skin covered in muted sound as dust lay over his face. A cringing cold goosebumps spread on his arms, followed by the exhale of black particles between his lips. And finally, the sticky taste of wet paper mache in Eske's mouth.

He turned his face, and there she was, sleeping beside him, small and glowing like an angel. Her hair spread across the pillow like a silver veil. His heart thumped hard against his chest, almost bursting through. She looked so peaceful with her eyes closed under heavy lids.

He dared to lift his hands and touch her cheek slightly on the surface. If he did more than that, she would disappear from his sight again. But touching her made him feel better, almost like he could breathe again. He tried to keep still and fight the huge to pull her in his arms as he used to. The fear of losing her once again was overwhelming. He had no idea how dangerous this drug was, but at least now he could see her and hold onto something. So he dared to reach further until he touched both sides of her head softly, caressing the silky grey strands.

'Coffee?'; she asked.

'Are you going to make some?'; he whispered back, remembering perfectly the day they had this early conversation.

'No, I was suggesting that you make it.'

Eske chuckled and repeated: 'Depends.'

'Of what?'

His voice cracked, and almost as if losing his voice, he asked again: 'Marry me.'

Nona's spectre crumbled in slow motion into black particles returning into Eske's mouth, who immediately fell unconscious and trawled to a world made of burning yellow dust.

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Eske looked at himself in the mirror while shaving his face, but it wasn't him. He had no control over his hands, face, or even feet. The thought wasn't his either. He was just a witness of a guy with bright hazel eyes and wild wavy short hair. He knew this face. He knew it too well. Delbert Day Whiterabbit.

The place looked like a minimalistic white module with an expansive view over yellow dunes. It was as daunting as breathing and talking. Day was worried about something. He couldn't stop looking at his watch: 'She is late. Bloody girl!' He watched his face and, with an immaculate white scarf, his head entirely and covered his clothes with a white tunic.

He started to walk directly to what seemed a closed village made of clay and yellow stone. Trying to avoid being noticed. The street where cramped with people, only people. Shouts and yelling entangled with noises that couldn't be identified seem to turn the street even smaller. Day checked every street, avenue, lane and alley, but as he couldn't find what he was searching for, his pace accelerated. 'Where are you?'

He stopped near a building with hidden broken stairs covered with cardboard. He first knocked, then a second. No response. He grabbed the cardboard and put it to one side carefully. The girl wasn't there, but she left the dead cat with some rags draped over it. 'She is still keeping that fucking thing.'; he put the cardboard back where it was and turned to the next closest person: 'Hey you! You with the fish face, have you seen the girl?'

'What girl?'; the man with the sunken face looked around him before answering.

'The girl that lives here, have you seen her?'

'No, I haven't. And then added: 'But who wants to know? Why should we care if someone has or hasn't seen her? Maybe who wants to know had some tokens to revive my brain eye!'

Day took from his jacket to black chips: 'Would that be enough to make you talk?'

'Two tokens? Don’t you have more?'; asked the man approaching carefully.

Day drew a wide grin: 'Depends what you are about to tell me.'

The man, still approaching, slowly answered: 'She went downtown. I think the butcher is asking for cleaning jobs.'; and after adding quickly: 'She is probably gone by now, cut into little slices. Little yummy pieces!'

As soon the man was about to grab the two tokens, Day punched him in the crooked nose with his elbow, turned around quickly, trapping his neck with his arm, and only let him fall into the ground when his neck snapped dry. He walked downtown rapidly until he arrived at a filthy store smelling of dry blood and rotten meat. He saw her there scrubbing the floor with a rag.

'Nona!'

She turned her face, confused.

'Nona!'; he called her again.

She wasn't happy to see him. She stood up and approached him. 'Why are you following me?'

'I was worried.'

'Why?'

'Because you didn't show up!'

'I'm not sick.'

'But you need to make regular checkups.'

She pulled her shirt up, showing her belly. On her left side, a tiny white device with a green blinking light was attached: 'It is still working.'

'I see, but I need to verify it with proper equipment.'; Day said, smiling, but he felt nervous around her. ‘And you need to eat and rest, you could come with me.’

'Are you going to take it off?'; she asked but sounded more as if she was demanding.

'No, Nona, I...'

She interrupted him, almost shouting: 'My name is not Nona!'

'Nona, please, listen.'

'Don't call me that!'; she shouted, staring at him. 'I don't have a name! I'm a number, remember?'

Day wanted to say something else, anything, but he couldn't. Her eyes were so sad. So lost. 'I told you, you can live with me. You don't need to do all of this. You’ll be safe with me, you know that. Last time we had fun, haven’t we?'

'Are you taking it off?'; she demanded once more.

'I can't do that. I won't do it. Please try to understand.'

Her face darkened. 'Then go away.'

'I will try my best to convince you to come with me. To live with me. We can even get another cat. You like cats, don’t you?'

'I don’t like you!,' she yelled. She was mad: 'So get out of here, creep! I don't want to see you again.'; Nona turned her back on him and kneeled once more on the floor, scrubbing the floor with all her rage. 'You are no better than the frogs, filthy rabbit.'; she said between her teeth as if spitting an insult.

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