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Suri Purefoy

United States

"Step into a scene and let it drip from your fingertips." MJ Bush
Be the person you can only be. Write what only you can write. Never look back. You have something that you and only you can put into the world. So don't hold it back. Let it shine!

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Any feedback, comments, notes, or corrections are warmly welcomed and will be greeted with a big smile and an appreciative hug.

Suri

One Night's Notice

November 19, 2015

He flourished on a signature capability, spinning his vast intelligence around the twisted lines of complicated and intricate designs: the, to all but him, "puzzling" fabric of life. Agha knew the secrets of this smooth material, he knew all the little tweaks of life that interlocked themselves in schemes unfathomable to the average mind, and he was doing it: he was changing, altering the pattern of life, little by little and bit by bit. But today was the day of bigger change.
Today Agha Brar would create something completely new to the world.

The laboratory got extremely dark at night. Half the lights in the tall city would turn off, casting an eerie glow of what electrical appliances were left on in the late hours of twilight. Or so people thought the laboratory did. Only Agha and immediate family had ever been down there in that lonely abyss. It was actually very bright, with every single light in the place flipped on, and on the highest setting, too. 
He was there tonight, as he was every day and night, from eight o' clock in the morning to two 'o clock at night. Agha, the lean and scrawny boy from India, sat hunched over his microscope. But tonight was not like other nights. 
"Agha?"
The voice behind him was the same pitch, the same tone, that it always was. He didn't need to turn or even sneak one bit of a glance to know it was his fiancé, though he hand't heard the metal door open and slam as her clopping shoes echoed on the lab flooring. Nor did he need to speak to let her know that he acknowledged her appearance. She was standing in her typical position, with her right arm draped crookedly over to her left, where her long thimble fingers played with her knitted coat.
"Agha?"
He would have rolled his eyes, but he could not afford to break his focus; the project required complete and undivided attention.
"Agha? Can you hear me?" Her usually smooth Spanish accent was gawky and shaking in a way he had never heard before. But he could not not look at her at that very moment.
"Yes. What is it?" The phrase was barely audible.
There was silence in the laboratory as Agha's hands moved slowly and steadily, placing the complex particles in order. The microscope was in focus, and he must be also.
Flavia sniffled. "You don't hear me, and you know it." She swallowed. "You never hear anything but your mind, and even that's fooling you now."
Agha kept going. The specialized tweezer-like equipment was still in his steady hand as he inched the atom closer to the soon-to-be adjoining particle.
"Agha..." Her voice was raw, vulnerable.
He slowly placed the atoms together.
"I'm leaving you."
The third particle was in place.
"Agha, do you hear me? Listen to me, please!" She was crying. "I'm leaving you, Agha."
Footsteps clipped the air. The metal door slid against the wall in an ear-piercing fashion. But Agha just kept adding to his creation.

It wasn't until all ten particles were placed and fitted into their positions that he realized he'd done it all wrong. It hadn't worked! Even after the fifteen long years of creating, he had calculated incorrectly. His life's work was ruined.  
And it wasn't until he stepped into the doorway of his home and found that the house was dark, silent, and lonely, that the conversation actually came to his ears.

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