After the cataclysm, February 2009
She walks in front of him with a rucksack on her back. Her skin is dark and shines in golden hues as the midday light
reflects from the unpredictable rippling of the sea surface. The path by the water is covered by small stones and red
soil. His legs are dusty. He feels strog, feels as if he is young again. There are no other people, one can here only
cicadas, a few small waves that hit on the coast a bit stronger, and the steps. They walk in silence. Going toward the
place where they swimmed yesterday. It is beautiful there. A piece of flat stone surrounded by high and unapproachable
rocky coast. That is their spot. She will finish reading that weird book. He will just lay and watch the sea. Just
listen. She turns back. Laughing.
You know what I just thought about? All these synthetic odors and scientific progress in the electrostimulation of the
brain, and none of that is like ... It is nowhere close to this smell of pine? Can you feel it? He smells the air.
Really, one can sense a healthy and sharp smell of pine. Where does it come from? You are right. It is beautiful.
I was just looking for him. I never thought that it could lead to all this, to defining a new specie, planning a leave. I just wanted to drink one more cup of coffee with him. Nothing smart... (from the novel in preparation).
Nevertheless, he was bothered by the idea of another genetic treatment and side effects of the viral vectors. The last one was just two years ago. Guess that's how it goes. More and more frequently, worse and worse until one day you decide to finish the story. It would be the best to do it in one of those places with projections of happy memories and extatic drugs. Sounds good. He wondered which part of his memory would enter the narrowed choice for the projection. He couldn't remember anything. Maybe the day his father taught him to swim. Yeah. That wasn't bad. (from the novel in preparation, 2009)
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Last updated on 7th of September 2015