Fall in love in a weekwe get by

The food appeared right there on the table. And even served, and not in boxes or plastic containers. A huge steak, emanating with fragrant steam, golden slices of potatoes, green peas. Sweet rice pudding topped with jam. Toasted croutons.

That is great. No talk about the meaning of life. Because I can't tell him. I just can not. For some reason I feel like this would be wrong.

The first normal meal of the day awakened a ravenous appetite. I downed my portion in no time and was seriously considering supplementation. It seems in vain that I limited my acquaintance with local ready-made cuisine to “Little Italy”.

Although, okay, eating too much at night is harmful. And to be honest, I was quite full. And somehow I even quietly finished the tea with the experimental mixture.

“It’s delicious,” she told the professor the obvious. – Thank you.

– Now continue to satisfy my professional curiosity. Describe feelings and desires.

“Satiation,” I grinned. I listened to myself: isn’t I feeling hysterical again? Of course, there is no reason to have fun, but you won’t be able to cry either. Even if I want to. “I don’t know whether to consider it an achievement of your mixture that I no longer feel the urge to cry; you came when the tears had already ended and I was about to wash my face and drink tea.” But it doesn't work. What was left was… devastation, I guess you could say. Not even sadness, because being sad is an emotion, and emotions have all disappeared somewhere. Or no, don’t share it, but… how to put it…

I fell silent, thinking about how to most accurately describe my feelings. Norwood waited, looking at me with interest.

“It’s like looking at a solar eclipse through smoked glass.” Yes. That's probably true. And I almost didn’t want to sleep at all; for some reason I thought that all the sedatives were making me sleepy. And I want to chat. And… – I thought again and for some reason yawned. – I want it somehow rationally. With the understanding that chatting now is useful, because otherwise the very thoughts that make you feel hysterical will begin again. Here. Probably everything. Was there anything else you should have paid attention to?

“Give me your hand,” the professor ordered. – Pulse.

I didn’t pretend to be pretentious, my pulse was just that. He counted and nodded:

– I wouldn’t launch you into space now. But for a different reason. But the mixture does not affect the desire to “chat”. This is your own reaction to stress, obvious even before tea. Well, what are you so drawn to rationally talking about?

I thought: really, about what? In fact, thoughts about the damned three days can arise now from any topic. Even just because Norwood is nearby. But maybe it makes sense to take advantage of such a kind invitation to communicate?

– Tell me, do you have a dream? Not in the sense of “becoming a world-famous pharmacist”, but… how to explain… – Thoughts flowed too sluggishly, inhibited, as if half asleep. – Something that you definitely want to do, try, or visit somewhere, or say something to someone. Something that is scary not to have time.

“A desert island,” Norwood answered instantly. – For personal use. At least for a week. At least in old age. Palma. Hammock. Cave-laboratory. Coconuts and shark fins on the horizon. I would become a kind romantic, communicate with Venus and Saturn and would probably be inexpressibly happy.

“It’s sad,” I agreed.

“As you’ve probably noticed, I don’t like people very much.” Especially some. And these some have the marvelous ability to reproduce at the speed of a fruit fly.

– I noticed. Well… you won't be sitting at the Academy forever, will you? Maybe not even in old age, but sooner, you will have your own island for personal use. If you take it seriously, this is probably not the most difficult goal.

– ? yours? Extremely difficult?

– No. Too simple. It probably can't even be called a dream. Just a place, a city that I really want to visit. An obsession, yes. That's more accurate. But it will be all the more offensive if… – I fell silent and looked into the empty cup. “I could walk around Sydney all this week, but I have Volger, Applestone, piles of daily mail and melancholy. And you, dear Doctor Norwood. And in a week it may be too late. It's hopelessly late." No really. I'm not ready to go to that level of frankness. – You know, there is something else. I would leave the Academy. Travel the world and write. About everything. It would be great.

– So leave. True, some dreams are better off remaining dreams, but I wouldn’t guess in advance which one shouldn’t come true.

“Let’s get out of there together,” I yawned again and shook my head. Drowsiness was creeping up, overtaking, and for some reason I thought: I wonder if I will see a continuation of yesterday’s dream? ? What details did Jake say? – It seems your mixture still works as a sleeping pill.

– Very gentle, but effective and without side effects. Come on, get up, sleeping with your nose on the table is not what you need.