Morning hasn't broken.
Something was wrong.
He sat on the bed, hand in hand with his victim, until the birds began to sing and the sun began to peep above the horizon, and still he existed.
He had eaten the cheese toasty the night porter had begrudgingly brought, had eaten the little biscuits on the plate by the little kettle and had watched the rolling news roll around and around for hours. Surely it should’ve happened by now? He tinkered around with the students phone, reading the words on the screen as it glowed back into life.
“SUBJECT : Physics department photograph archive project” it began.
“I know we’re all very busy at this time of year, but I was hoping one of you lovely students would be willing to undertake the archiving of the University’s newly acquired collection of photographs with an aim…”
It hadn’t worked. The discoverer dead, the discovery still remained to be discovered, and if it were to be discovered then the result of the discovery’s discovery would play out in a different way, but with the same inevitable conclusion. As one particular man had just proven, we really can’t be trusted with such knowledge.
The old man used the old fashioned phone to check the train timetables. Not that the time mattered, he was above such considerations. Just the destination.
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Previous chapter.
Chapter select.
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