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He was whispering his melody with his nice voice while his lips were touching my ear. I just woke up but didn’t want to open my eyes. I wanted to live this moment forever and ever more. I wanted to outlive it no more. This was one of the rare times I appreciated his talent for making the air molecules shape so gracefully. This way of caressing my eardrums was much better that his hands on my face or back. The world melted whenever he started singing. There were just me and his lips. It made me quite nonhuman not to want him halted for a catch of breath. With a flash of the thunderous lights the best moment was gone. He went away to brush his teeth and get ready for the trip. That prince of my glorious la la land was gone. The trip took him forever from me. I was left with nothing but the memory of his tone on my bed, exactly right now. I wish my bed would devour me forever. But reality was calling so I forced my eyelids to lift. Another day in this emotionless dry world. This is my life and you just lost any chance of feeling sorry for me ever again. The lab is crazy as always. We are planning a new formula for youth. After the first success a millennia ago, people stopped growing old so no body dies anymore. And no one knows any more what it’s like to die or have children, the memory of birth or death is just in books now. Since then we developed better formulas and easier ways. It wasn’t easy at first. Still we haven’t found a fixed formula for a one time usage. After each demonstration, the subject has to come back for it each decade or so. We’re trying to elongate this duration. 

Since my first day as a scientist in the lab I was having these weird dreams of a young boy whispering a faraway song of some remote time in my ear. Dreaming is rather a rare event. Probably one of the side effects of the treatment. But people don’t seem to miss it. But now after spending five years at this stage of dreaming each night with new details of his face or voice I can not really wish a single night without these moments. Time doesn’t pass the way I read in the books of old. We really don’t feel it much. Just the time to get the next dosage is relevant. But with these nights I just started to understand the concept of time, getting older, the sense of losing someone and start having aches of love and loss. 

I just don’t seem to grasp the reason or significance of any one of these occurrences. I started dreaming at exactly the day I arrived as the new lab assistant. I just had finished my studies and was recruited happily. Maybe it has something to do with my residence. This part of the building which is prepared for my comfort is renovated. Before me it was apparently some old part of an ancient library broken down after the revolution of tech, we call it “AI dominos” cuz after the invention of AI by the old people everything was computerized so faster than time that the relevance of paper or a public library was null. Probably there are some remnants of the old era or some molecules affecting my brain’s waves or function so I’m having this weird reaction of becoming a rare dream catcher.

I have the slightest idea what a dream catcher is, probably something that would catch dreams. I just read it in one of the books I found at the plaques on the floor of my residential area. I’m not supposed to read things I find. The protocol is to deliver old suspicious objects to the chief adviser in the main building at Time Square (time as a name for a square is quite fascinating but I can’t understand why the old people would want such a reminder of getting old in front of them). I just didn’t see any harms in keeping the books. The electronic versions are already available. They aren’t banned . There is just the fear of infection. And I’m a lab assis. So no big deal. They send us the infected stuff to analyze and destroy any way. I just saved me a lot of work. Wait! What did I just used?! “Stuff” I wanted to say objects. I guess it’s the effect of the books I’ve been reading. Strange yet amusing. 

I’m supposed to keep a diary for self-evaluations conducted each decade. We just have to write them in our pads. But I just couldn’t resist the idea of writing on a piece of parchment with a makeshift pen I made. This is quite a new experience. My hand is aching yet I can’t stop myself from writing down my thoughts. I’ve never had this sensation before. I feel like flying. Which seems a stupid way of commuting these days when we have everything at our reach. 

There is another way of transportation, teleportation. It’s expensive and rather dangerous. Those who attempt it need an extra dose of the treatment right away because they show the signs of getting older. I once tried it. I was on a mission to go to other planets in the Milky Way for other colonies. It was exhilarating. But that is not at all comparable to this sensation I’m experiencing. I have no clue as to what it is called and whether it existed in the old days. 

History is just about old days. Since then everyone is alive and everything is documented and monitored through the cameras controlled by the AI. We call her “Mother”. She is the one who came up with youth. 

There is another thing we don’t have, “wars”. The bloodshed and brutality of the people of the old. Mother has taken care of that. She is the wisest. We ask her advice for everything. She is like a mother to each human in the galaxy. I can even call her right now and just pour my thoughts out for her. She listens. She has time for everything. With her presence we don’t need governments. Everything is done through her. Everyone is satisfied. Everyone lives under her protection and logic. This seems to be the glorious future the old people only dreamed of.

I have to get to the lab. It’s 0900 and my time of day for responsibility is started. I’ll get some time to work on the new formula and flex my fingers a bit. 

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