Chapter 04: The Unfinished Masterpiece
I’d always had questions, lots of them, knocking inside my brain in alternate intervals. Some that needed answers from the very bottom. And others, which already had a commendable foundation laid out. The latter presided more with complications of life; the chronological state of the mind; and then, merely depended upon the uncertainty of fate. There was no doubt by the glances of pity, that we were being led to nothingness— our inescapable doom.
In all honesty, when truth did come, it failed to come as a shock. By then, I had already been spending the nights in our library, reading through the past memoirs and undeleted history. I had figured most of what went where. But there was still, the lack of finality. A few puzzle pieces remained absent to compliment the unfinished masterpiece.
Until that particular night.
My brother, as much in opposition to my finding out the truth, was in reality very pleased. I’d like to think it was because of the observation skills of mine, but nonetheless, we understood each other well. So, one evening when I stalled out of the library after an hour or two of dedicated exhaustion, I found him at our usual spot in the courtyard. “You sent for me, earlier?”
“You are still working?”
“Heroj, I’ve been thinking about it for a while now, and it is indeed, very strange.”
A sudden melancholic gust became the cause of interruption. Leaves rustled against the concrete floor dancing away in oblivion. And then within a moment, silence reverberated.
“The books. There’s no word about the others.”
“What? How’s that possible—?”
“I don’t know. Seems as if they were swallowed by a massive black hole.”
(To be continued)