“Threads of fine energy streamed from her fingers. She was all lit up like a sensitive live wire, and I was happy for a short while…” – SEMMANT
The new job was complicated and brimming with surprises. It really appealed to my tastes. The mystery of living molecules got hold of my head, and besides, autumn in Paris that year was soft and romantic. I thought the healing was right here, just a step away. I was surrounded by enthusiastic people; we again worked very hard, and we were happy because we were still young. I married a French artist and fell in love with Manet and Bonnard, steak tartare and red Bordeaux. But all the same, doubt kept gnawing like a worm. Everything was lovely, but it was all unstable – I felt it in my skin, recalled it in my sleep.
The artist, fair-haired Natalie, became the first woman of my dreams. She was exactly as I had imagined in my youth. She even had a familiar smell – like a crisp autumn wind with yellow leaves. Here it is, harmony itself, I would tell myself, transported to seventh heaven. And Natalie adored me in turn.
The work was exhausting. There was almost no one daring enough at the time to tackle those extremely complicated subjects. I was creating new worlds, making models of the “elementary blocks” that comprised the human body, building images of individual cells and colonies of them – fragile but well organized groups. Strange hybrids were born on my monitor screen, monstrosities called forth to produce new life, balls of protein chains, pieces of interwoven threads, “letters” upon “letters” composed in threes and containing the eternal code. It was the code of the universe – or so we thought at the time, and perhaps we were right. The mysteries of living matter were being revealed down to the fundamental level, arranging themselves row by row, exposed in one snapshot after another. It was magnificent, stunning, gorgeous. There was music and poetry there. I truly felt like a Creator.
Natalie did not understand what was going on in my head, but she sensed something, and it captivated her. At night, she would suddenly wake, look at me, and exclaim, “How strange!” Thinking I was asleep, she would run her fingers over my face and whisper almost inaudibly, “Where did you get all this? How do you do it?”
Threads of fine energy streamed from her fingers. She was all lit up like a sensitive live wire, and I was happy for a short while. Then, about six months later, her interest dried up. She grew tired and common – a quarrelsome, lazy soul. I was in despair and suffered like I never had before. Later, I threw her out. And I lost faith in everything.
Even living molecules became loathsome to me. I submitted to sloth, then I quit before bringing what I had started to a conclusion. There was no one to carry on after me, so my work was for naught. I loafed about for an entire month, almost never leaving the house. Then I suddenly came to my senses – and felt ashamed, embarrassed, and guilty. So I decided to start it all afresh… – SEMMANT
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