In All of Infinity Read Online Free PDF Page A

hours out of the day he was awake, and it
was littered with all sorts of inventions.
     
    This particular day, almost an hour before
he rested, he wore his glasses and held tools in both hands,
working dexterously on his current project. He had been working
since he got up, taking only a minute here and there to drink
bitter cups of coffee and relieve himself in the downstairs
bathroom. At long last, he pulled away from his desk, took off his
glasses to rub his eyes, ran a hand through his beard, and looked
at his progress with a sigh.
     
    The figure was that of a plump baby with
outstretched hands. He wanted to hold it but realized the glass
would still be hot, so he pulled back from doing so. The baby
symbolized the one that would belong to him and Esme, had Fate
decided to treat them differently.
     
    He found tears forming in his eyes, and
looked around the room, taking in each dark corner, each article of
furniture, each invention that lay here or there, clamoring
inaudibly about something. This was his life now, this form of
chaos that he’d created, and it smelled like him. The room hadn’t
been aired out for months, and it smelled like his sweat from
restless nights, from working diligently from one project to the
next.
     
    Further, he knew he was the one to blame for
his loneliness. There were several people who would be willing to
speak with him, take him into their hearts and console him.
Emmanuel’s pride was preventing him from doing anything about his
solitude, even though there were times when he could do for a
companion. At night, even with the firelight casting itself on the
walls, he didn’t feel warm. He needed someone, anyone. He merely
wasn’t going to risk his dignity to find anyone.
     
    He stood and stretched, then walked over to
one of his inventions that was squawking about whom they were
‘Hello, I’m Anna’ and another that was lying on its side but still
trying to walk. He laughed at them good naturedly, assisted them
with a gentle touch, and watched them get on with their lives. For
a moment, he wished he could get on with his.
     
    He stood again and yawned, then looked at
the clock hanging beside the fireplace behind him, and realized how
hungry he was. He sat on the couch and picked up one of the jars on
the coffee table. Although he wasn’t a fan of pickles, these were
rather good and had him often wondering if he could get fat off
them. Emmanuel hadn’t weighed himself in a while, and he had a
feeling he’d lost more weight than he’d gained. He didn’t care
about appearance. He didn’t care much about anything except his
work.
     
    He sat back, looking at the fire before
watching the light on the chair across from him. The chair was used
only when he didn’t want to sleep or work, just sit there and
think, but he wasn’t wondering about that presently. Emmanuel was
considering when he’d last had a conversation. He hadn’t spoken
with anyone since he’d been visited by the women in the cloaks, but
he hadn’t had a decent conversation in a much longer time.
     
    He yawned and looked towards the clock
again, realizing it was only five minutes until midnight, until
December of the bleakest year in his life. Turning towards the
fire, he thought about Christmas last year, when he was with Esme.
As tears began blurring his vision, he found himself wanting a
drink, but he didn’t move. Emmanuel finished chewing his pickle and
rested his hands in his lap, thinking about how terrible his life
was turning out. He would never be able to get over Esme, not
without ending his own life.
     
    Emmanuel found his eyes growing heavy so he
closed them and drifted to sleep, thinking about her face and the
way her eyes consumed every ounce of light.
     
    ***
     
    “Manny …” a woman whispered into his ear. “ I need you to wake up. I need you to look at me. See me. Feel
me .”
     
    He opened his eyes and realized he was still
seated on the couch, but he realized someone was looking